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aass._F" (»(»-(«. 
Book--. C ^S 




Gilbert L. Cole. 



In the Early Days Along 

the Overland Trail in 

Nebraska Territory, 

in 1852. 



BY 

GILBERT L. COLE, 
1905. 



Compiled by Mrs. A. Hardy. 



Press of 

Franklin Hudson Publishing Coiipant, 

Kansas Cixt, Mo. 






Copt EIGHT, 1905, 

BY 

GILBERT L. COLE, 
Bbatbice, Neb. 



'' ^ 



TESTIMONIALS, 

A true story plainly told, of immense histori- 
cal value and fascinating interest from beginning 
to end. 

Dr. Geo. W. Croi^ts, 
Beatrice, Nebraska. 



I have read every word of "In the Early 
Days," written by Mr. Gilbert L. Cole, with great 
interest and profit. The language is well chosen, 
the word-pictures are vivid, and the subject- 
matter is of historic value. The story is fasci- 
nating in the extreme, and I only wished it were 
longer. The story should be printed and distrib- 
uted for the people in general to read. 
July 27, 1905. C. A. FuLMER, 

Superintendent of Public Schools, 

Beatrice, Neb. 



At a single sitting, with intense interest, I 
have read the manuscript of "In the Early Days." 
It is a very entertaining narrative of adventure, 
a vivid portrayal of conditions and an instructive 
history of events as they came into the personal 
experience and under the observation of the writer 
fifty-three years ago. An exceedingly valuable 
contribution to the too meager literature of a time 
so near in years, but so distant in conditions as to 



make the truth about it seem stranger than 
fiction. 

Rev. N. a. Martin, 
Pastor, Centenary M. E. Church, 

Beatrice, Neb. 



Nebraska State Historical Society. 

Lincoln, Nebraska, July 28, 1905. 

To whom it may concern: The manuscript 

account of the overland trip by Mr. Gilbert L. Cole 

of Beatrice, Nebraska, in my opinion is very care- 

ully written story of great interest to the whole 

public, and particularly to Nebraskans. It reads 

like a novel, and the succession of adventures holds 

the interest of the reader to the end. The records 

of trips across the Nebraska Territory as early as 

this one are very incomplete, and Mr. Cole has 

done a real public service in putting into print so 

complete a record of these experiences. I predict 

that it will find a wide circulation among lovers of 

travel and of Nebraska history. 

Very sincerely. 

Jay Amos Barrett, 
Curator and Librarian Nebraska 

State Historical Society, 
Author of "Nebraska and the Nation"; 

"Civil Government of Nebraska." 



Executive Chamber, 
Lincoln, Nebraska, July 28, 1905. 
To whom it may concern: It gives me great 
pleasure to say that the publication, "In the Early 
Days," written by Mr. Gilbert L. Cole, of Beatrice, 



Nebraska, is a very interesting and profitable work 
to read. It bears upon many subjects of great 
historical value and no doubt will prove a very 
interesting book to all who read it and I take 
pleasure in recommending the same. 
Very respectfully, 

John H. Mickey, 

Governor. 



To whom it may concern : It is with pleasure 
I write a few words of commendation for the book 
written by Mr. Gilbert L. Cole, of Beatrice, Ne- 
braska, entitled "In the Early Days." It is well 
prepared and full of interest from beginning to 
the end. It is of great value to every Nebraskan. 
July 28, 1905. D. L. Thomas, 

Pastor Grace M. E. Church, 

Lincoln, Neb. 



An interesting, thrilling and delightful bit of 
prairie history hitherto unwritten and unsung, 
which most opportunely and completely supplies 
a missing link in the stories of the great West- 
land. Mrs. a. Hardy, 

President Beatrice Woman's Club, 

Beatrice, Neb. 

Beatrice, Neb., July 3o, 1905. 
I have just read "In the Early Days," by 
Col. G. L. Cole, and I find it an interesting and 
instructive narrative, clothed in good diction and 
pleasing style. Few of the Argonauts took time 
or trouble to make note of the events of their 
journey and our California gold episode is re- 
markably barren of literature, a fact which 
makes Col. Cole's book doubly interesting and 
valuaqle. M. T. Cummings 

vii 



CONTENTS. 

Chapter I. — Setting up Altars of Remem- 
brance, 13 

Chapter II.— "God Could Not Be Hvery- 

where, and so He Made Mothers," . 23 

Chapter HI. — *'But Somewhere the Master 

Has a Counterpart of Each," . . 32 

Chapter IV. — Our Prairies are a Book 

Whose Pages Hold Many Stories, . 41 

Chapter V. — A Worthy Object Reached For 
and Missed is a First Step Toward 
Success, 51 

Chapter VI. — " 'Tis Only a Snowbank's 

Tears, I Ween," . . . .58 

Chapter VII. — We Stepped Over the Ridge 
and Courted the Favor of New and 
Untried Waters, .... 67 

Chapter VIII.— We Had No Flag to Unfurl, 

but Its Sentiment Was Within Us, . 77 

Chapter IX.— We Listened to Each Other's 
Rehearsals, and|Became Mutual Sym- 
pathizers and Encouragers, . . 87 

Chapter X, — Boots and Saddles Call, . 98 

Chapter XI.— "But All Comes Right in the 

End," - 108 

Chapter XII. — Each Day Makes Its Own 

Paragraphs and Punctuation Marks, 123 



INTRODUCTORY. 



If one is necessary, the only apology I 
can offer for presenting this Uttle volume to 
the pubhc is that it may serve to record for 
time to come some of the adventures of that 
long and v^earisome journey, together v^ith 
my impressions of the beautiful plains, 
mountains and rivers of the great and then 
comparatively unknown Territory of Ne- 
braska. They were presented to me fresh 
from the hand of Nature, in all their beauty 
and glory. And by reference to the daily 
journal I kept along the trail, the impres- 
sions made upon my mind have remained 
through these long years, bright and clear. 

The Author. 



XI 



IN THE EARLY DAYS ALONG 

THE OVERLAND TRAIL IN 

NEBRASKA TERRITORY, 

IN 1852. 



CHAPTER I. 

Setting up Altars of Remembrance. 

It has been said that once upon a time 
Heaven placed a kiss upon the hps of 
Earth and therefrom sprang the fair State 
of Nebraska. 

It was while the prairies were still 
dimpling under this first kiss that the 
events related in this little volume be- 
came part and parcel of my life and ex- 
perience, as gathered from a trip made 
across the continent in the morning glow 
of a territory now occupying high and 
honorable position in the calendar of 
States and nations. 

On the 16th day of March, 1852, a 
caravan consisting of twenty-four men, 
one woman (our captain, W. W. Wads- 
worth being accompanied b}^ his wife), 



14 Along the Overland Trail^ 

forty-four head of horses and mules and 
eight wagons, gathered itself together 
from the little city of Monroe, Michigan, 
and adjacent country, and, setting its 
face toward the western horizon, started 
for the newly found gold fields of Cali- 
fornia, where it expected to unloose from 
the storage quarters of Nature sufficient 
of shining wealth to insure peace and 
plenty to twenty-five life-times and their 
dependencies. As is usual upon such 
occasions, this March morning departure 
from home and friends was a strange com- 
mingling of sadness and gladness, of hope 
and fear, for in those days whoever went 
into the regions beyond the Missouri 
River were considered as already lost to 
the world. It was going into the dark 
unknown and untried places of earth 
whose farewells always surrounded those 
who remained at home with an atmos- 
phere of foreboding. 

Nothing of importance occurred dur- 
ing our travel through the States, except 
the general bad roads, which caused us 
to make slow progress. Crossing the 
Mississippi River at Warsaw, Illinois, we 
kept along the northern tier of counties 
in Missouri, which were heavily timbered 
and sparsely settled. Bearing south- 



Nebraska Territory, 1852 15 

west, we arrived at St. Joseph, Missouri, 
on the first day of May. 

The town was a collection of one-story, 
cheap, wooden buildings, located along 
the river and Black Snake Hollow. 

The inhabitants appeared to be chief- 
ly French and half-breed Indians. The 
principal business was seUing outfits to 
immigrants and trading horses, mules 
and cattle. There was one steam ferry- 
boat, which had several days crossing 
registered ahead. 

The level land below the town was the 
camping-place of our colony. After two 
or three days at this point, we drove up 
to the town of Savannah, where we laid 
in new supphes and passed on to the 
Missouri River, where we crossed by 
hand-ferry at Savannah Landing, now 
called Amazonia. Here we pressed for 
the first time the soil of the then unset- 
tled plains of the great West. Working 
our way through the heavily timbered 
bottom, we camped under the bluffs, wet 
and weary. 

We remained here over Sunday, it 
having been decided to observe the Sab- 
bath days as a time of rest. We usually 
rested Wednesday afternoons also. 



16 Along the Overland Trail^ 

Just after crossing the river, we had 
a number of set-backs; beginning, with 
the crippHng of a wheel while passing 
through a growth of timber. As we ex- 
amined the broken spokes, we realized 
that they would soon have to be replaced 
by new ones, and that the wise thing to 
do was to provide for them while in the 
region of timber ; so we stopped, cut jack- 
oak, made it into lengths and stored them 
in the wagon until time and place 
were more opportune for wheel- wrighting. 
This broken wheel proved to be a hoodoo, 
as will appear at intervals during the 
story of the next few weeks. 

In attempting to cross the slough 
which lies near to and parallel with the 
river for a long distance, my team and 
wagon, leading the others, no sooner got 
fairly on to the slough, which was crusted 
over, than the wagon sank in clear to its 
bed, and the horses sank until they were 
resting on their bellies as completely as 
though they were entirely without legs. 

And there we were, the longed-for 
bluffs just before us, and yet as unap- 
proachable as if they were located in Ire- 
land. A party of campers, numbering 
some fifty or seventy-five, who were rest- 
ing near by, came to our relief. The horses 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 17 

were extricated, and, after we had carried 
the contents of the wagon to the bluff 
shore, they drew the wagon out with cow- 
teams, whose fiat, broad hoofs kept them 
from sinkmg. Cow- teams were used quite 
extensively in those days, being very do- 
cile and also swift walkers. 

Here under the bluffs over-hanging 
the Missouri, we completed our organiza- 
tion, for it was not only necessary that 
every man go armed, but also each man 
knew his special duty and place. W. W. 
Wadsworth, a brave and noble man, was 
by common consent made captain. Four 
men were detailed each night to stand 
guard, two till 1 o'clock, when they were 
relieved by two others, who served till 
daylight. 

Monday morning came, and at sun- 
rise we started on the trail that led up the 
hollow and on to the great plains of Kan- 
sas and Nebraska. The day was warm 
and bright and clear. The sight before 
us was the most beautiful I had ever 
seen. Not a tree nor an obstacle was 
in sight; only the great rolling sea of 
brightest green beneath us and the vivid 
blue above. I think it must have been 
just such a scene as this that inspired a 



18 Along the Overland Trail, 

modem writer to pen those expressive 
and much admired Hnes: 

"I'm glad the sky is painted blue 
And the grass is painted green, 

And a lot of nice fresh air 
All sandwiched in between." 

Sky, air, grass; what an abundance of 
them! in all the pristine splendor of 
fifty-three years ago, was ours upon that 
spring morning. This, then, was the 
land which in later years was called the 
"Great American Desert." I have now 
lived in Nebraska for a quarter of a cen- 
tury and know whereof I speak when I 
say that in those days the grass was as 
green and luxuriant as it is today; the 
rivers were fringed with willow green 
as they are today; the prairie roses, like 
pink stars, dotted the trail sides through 
which we passed ; and, later on, clumps 
of golden-rod smiled upon us with their 
sun-hued faces ; the rains fell as they have 
been falling all these years, and several 
kinds of birds sang their praises of it all. 
This was "the barren, sandy desert," as 
I saw it more than half a hundred years 
ago. 

Perhaps right here it will be well to 
ask the reader to bear in mind the fact 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 19 

that the boundary lines of Nebraska in 
1852, were different from the boundary 
hnes of today. They extended many 
miles farther south, and so many miles 
farther west, that we stepped ' out of 
Nebraska on to the summit of the Sierra 
Nevada Mountains into California. ' 

It was at this stage of our journey, 
that, in going out, very early in the morn- 
ing to catch my horse, I noticed ahead of 
me something sticking up above the 
grass. Stepping aside to see what it 
might be, I found a new-made grave ; just 
a tiny grave; at its head was the object 
I had seen — a bit of board bearing the 
inscription, 

"Our only child, 
Little Mary." 

How my heart saddened as I looked upon 
it! The tiny mound seemed bulging 
with buried hopes and happiness as the 
first rays of a new sun fell across it, for 
well I knew that somewhere on the trail 
ahead of us there were empty arms, ach- 
ing hearts, and bitter longings for the 
baby who was sleeping so quietly upon 
the bosom of the prairie. 

The first Indians we saw were at Wolf 
Creek, where they had made a bridge of 
logs and brush, and charged us fifty cents 



20 Along the Overland Trail^ 

per wagon to pass over it. We paid it 
and drove on, coming northwest to the 
vicinity of the Big Blue River, at a point 
near where Barneston, Gage County, is 
now located. 

As a couple of horsemen, a comrade 
and myself, riding in advance, came sud- 
denly to the Big Blue, where, on the 
opposite bank stood a party of thirty or 
forty Indians. We fell back, and when 
the train came up a detail was made of 
eight men to drive the teams and the 
other sixteen were to wade the river, 
rifles in hand. 

In making preparations to ford the 
river. Captain Wadsworth, as a precau- 
tion of safety, placed his wife in the bot- 
tom of their wagon-bed, and piled sacks 
of flour around her as a protection in 
case of a fight. 

Being one of the skirmish line, I remem- 
ber how cold and blue the water was, and 
that it was so deep as to come into our 
vest pockets. We walked up to the 
Indians and said "How," and gave some 
presents of copper cents and tobacco. We 
soon saw that they were merely looking 
on to see us ford the stream. They were 
Pawnees, and were gaily dressed and 
armed with bows and arrows. We passed 



Nebeaska Territory, 1852. 21 

several pipes among them, and, seeing 
that they were quiet, the train was sig- 
nalled, and all cam.e through the ford 
without any mishap, excepting, that the 
water came up from four to six inches in 
the wagon-bed, making the ride extreme- 
ly hazardous and uncomfortable for Mrs. 
Wadsworth, who was necessarily drawn 
through the water in an alarming and 
nerve-trying manner. But she was one 
of the bravest of women, and in this 
instance, as in many others of danger and 
fatigue before we reached our journey's 
end, she displayed such courage and good 
temper, as to win the admiration of all 
the company. The sacks of flour and 
other contents of the wagons were pretty 
badly wet, and, after we were again on 
the open prairie, we bade the Indians 
good-bye, and all hands proceeded to 
dismount the wagons, and spread their 
contents on the grass to dry. 

An "Altar of remembrance," is sure 
to be established at each of these halting 
places along life's trail. A company of 
kin-folk and neighbor-folk hitting the 
trail simultaneously, having a common 
goal and actuated by common interests, 
are drawn wonderfully close together by 
the varied incidents and conditions of the 



22 Along the Oveeland Trail^ 

march, and, at the spots thus made sacred, 
memory never fails to halt, as in later 
life it makes its rounds up and down the 
years. Not fewer in number than the 
stars, which hang above them at night, 
are the altars of remembrance, which 
will forever mark the line of immigration 
and civilization from east to west across 
our prairie country. 



CHAPTER II. 

''God Could Not Be Everywhere 
And So He Made Mothers." 

We now moved on in the direction of 
Diller and Endicott, where we joined the 
main Hne of immigration coming through 
from St. Joe, and, crossing the Big Blue 
where Marysville, Kansas, is located, we 
were soon coming up the Little Blue, pass- 
ing up on the east side, and about one- 
half mile this side of Fairbury. 

Our trail now lay along the uplands 
through the day, where we could see the 
long line of covered wagons, sometimes 
two or three abreast, drawing itself in its 
windings like a huge white snake across 
this great sea of rolling green. This line 
could be seen many miles to the front and 
rear so far that the major portion of it 
seemed to the observer to be motionless. 

This immense concourse of travellers 
was self-divided into trail families or 
travelling neighborhoods, as it were; and 
while each party was bound together by 
local ties of friendship and affection, there 
still ran through the entire procession a 



24 Along the Overland Teail, 

chord of common interest and sympathy, 
a something which, in a sense, made 
the whole hne kin. This fact was most 
touchingly exempHfied one day in the 
region of the Blue. 

I was driving across a bad slough, 
close behind a man who belonged to an- 
other party, from where I did not know. 
Himself, wife and little daughter lived 
in the covered wagon he was driving. 
The piece of ground was an unusually 
bad one, and both his wagon and mine 
being heavily loaded, we stopped as soon 
as we had pulled through, in order that 
the horses might rest; our wagons stand- 
ing abreast and about ten or twelve feet 
apart. In the side of his wagon cover 
next to me was a flap-door, which, the 
day being fine, was fastened open. As 
we sat our loads and exchanged remarks, 
his little girl, a beautiful child, apparently 
three or four years old, came from the 
recesses of the wagon-home, and standing 
in the opening of the door, looked coyly 
and smilingly out at her father and myself. 
She made a beautiful picture, with her 
curls and dimples, and, as I didn't know 
any baby talk at that time, I playfully 
snapped my fingers at her. The thought 
of moving on evidently came to the father 



Nebraska Territory^ 1852. 25 

very suddenly, for, without any prelimi- 
nary symptoms and not realizing that 
the little one was standing so nearly out 
of the door, he swung his long whip, and, 
as it cracked over the horses' backs, they 
gave a sudden lurch, throwing the little 
girl out of the door and directly in front 
of the hind wheel of the heavily laden 
wagon, which, in an instant had passed 
over the child's body at the waist line, the 
pretty head and hands reaching up on one 
side of the wheel, and the feet on the 
other,' as the middle was pressed down in- 
to the still boggy soil. The little life was 
snuffed out in the twinkling of an eye. 
The mother, seeing her darling fall, 
jumped from the door, and such excruci- 
ating sobs of agony I hope never to hear 
again. But why sa}^ it in that way when 
I can hear them still, even as I write? It 
seemed but a moment of time till men and 
women were gathered about the wagon, 
helping to gather the crushed form from 
the prairie, and giving assistance and 
sympathy in such measure and earnest- 
ness as verified the truth of the words, 
''A touch of sorrow makes the whole 
world kin." 

When started again, the trail soon led 
to a stream, called the Big Sandy; I be- 



26 Alo2^g the Overland Trail^ 

lieve it is in the northwest part of Fill- 
more County, where, about nine o'clock, 
A. M., we were suddenly alarmed by the 
unearthly whoops and yells of one hund- 
red or more Indians (Pawnees), all 
mounted and riding up and down across 
the trail on the open upland opposite us, 
about a good rifle shot distant. 

Our company was the only people 
there. A courier was immediately sent 
back for reinforcements. We hastily put 
our camp in position of defense (as we 
had been drilled) by placing our wagons 
in a circle with our stock and ourselves 
inside. The Indians constantly kept up 
their noise, and rode up and down, brand- 
ishing their arms at us, and every minute 
we thought they would make a break 
for us. 

We soon had recruits mounted and 
well armed coming up, when our Captain 
assumed command, and all were assigned 
to their positions. This was kept up 
until about four p. m., when we decided 
that our numbers would warrant us in 
making a forward movement. 

As a preliminary, skirmishers were or- 
dered forward toward the creek, through 
some timber and underbrush, I being 
one of them. My pardner and I, coming 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 27 

to the creek first, discovered an empty 
whiskey barrel, and going a little farther 
into the brush, discovered two tents. 
Creeping carefully up to them, we heard 
groans as of some one in great pain. 
Peeping through a hole in the tent we 
saw two white men, who, on entering the 
tent, we learned were badly wounded by 
knife and bullet. From them we learned 
the following facts, which caused all our 
fear and trouble of the morning: The 
two white men were post-keepers at that 
point, and, of course, had whiskey to sell. 
Two large trains had camped there the 
night before ; the campers got on a drunk, 
quarreled, and had a general fight, during 
which the post-keepers were wounded. 
On the trail over where the Indians were, 
some immigrants were camped, and a 
guard had been placed at the roadside. 
One of the Indians, hearing the noise down 
at the post, started out to see what was go- 
ing on. Coming along the trail, the guard 
called to him to halt, but as he did not do 
so the guard fired, killing him on the spot. 
The campers immediately hitched up and 
moved on. Later the dead Indian was 
found by the other Indians lying in the 
road. It was this that aroused their 



28 Along the Overland Trail^ 

anger and kept us on the ragged edge for 
several hours. 

The Indians all rode off as we ap- 
proached them, and as the trail was now 
clear our train moved ahead, travelling 
all night and keeping out all the mounted 
ones as front and rear guards. 

We now come to the "last leaving of 
the Little Blue," and pass on to the up- 
land without wood or water, thirty- three 
miles east of Ft. Kearney, leading to the 
great Platte Valley, 

Meanwhile ray broken wheel had com- 
pletely collapsed. Having a kit of tools 
with me, I set about shaping spokes out 
of the oak wood gathered several days 
before. While I was doing this others of 
the men rode a number of miles in search 
of fuel with which to make a fire to set 
the tire. It was nearly night and in a 
drizzling rain when we came to the line 
of the reservation. A trooper, sitting on 
his horse, informed us that we would have 
to keep off of the reservation or else go 
clear through if once we started. This 
meant three or four miles' further ride 
through the darkness and rain, and so we 
camped right there, without supper or 
even fire to make some coffee. We hitch- 
ed up in the morning and drove into the 



Nebraska Territory^ 185^. 20 

Fort, where we were very kindly treated 
by the commanding officer, whose name, 
I think, was Mc Arthur. He tendered us 
a large room with tables, pen and ink, 
paper and "envelope paper," where we 
wrote the first letters home from Ne- 
braska, which, I believe, were all received 
with much joy. The greater part of the 
troops were absent from the Fort on a 
scout. 

After buying a few things we had for- 
gotten to bring with us and getting rest- 
ed, we moved on our journey again, going 
up on the south side of the Platte River. 

Before leaving this region I want to 
speak of the marvelous beauty of the 
Platte River islands, a magnificent view 
of which could be had from the bluffs. 
Looking out upon the long stretch of river 
either way were islands and islands of 
every size whatever, from three feet in 
diameter to those which contained miles 
of area, resting here and there in the most 
artistic disregard of position and relation 
to each other, the small and the great 
alike wearing its own mantle of sheerest 
willow-green. There are comparatively 
few of these island beauty spots in the 
whole wide world. When the Maker of 
the universe gathered up his emeralds 



30 Along the Overland Trail, 

and then dropped them with careless 
hand upon a few of earth's waters He 
wrought nowhere a more beautiful effect 
than in the Platte islands of Nebraska. 
It was well that at this point we had an 
extra amount of kindness tendered us 
and so much unusual beauty to look 
upon, for a great sorrow was about to 
come upon us. 

Just as we were leaving the Little 
Blue, thirty-three miles back, one of our 
party, Robert Nelson, became ill, and in 
spite of the best nursing and treatment 
that the company could give he rapidly 
grew worse, and it soon became evident 
that his disease was cholera, which was 
already quite prevalent thereabout. Mrs. 
Wadsworth, that most excellent woman, 
gave to him her special care, taking him 
into the tent occupied by herself and hus- 
band, which, in fact, was the only tent in 
the outfit. It was Lew Wallace who once 
said that ''God 'could 'nt be everywhere, 
and so He made mothers. ' ' Our captain's 
wife was a true mother to the sick boy, 
but she couldn't save him. At 3 o'clock 
Sunday afternoon. May 27 th, about 
sixty miles beyond Kearney, his soul 
passed on, and we were bowed under our 
first bereavement. We dug his grave in 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 31 

the sand a little way off the trail. We 
wrapped his blanket about him and sewed 
it, and at sunrise Monday morning laid 
him to rest. The end-gate from my wag- 
on had bepn shaped into a grave-board 
and, with his name cut upon it, was plant- 
ed to mark his resting-place. It was a 
sorrowful Httle company that performed 
these last services for one who was be- 
loved by all. 

Just before dying, Robert had re- 
quested that his grave might be covered 
with willow branches, and so a comrade 
and myself rode our horses out to one of 
the islands and brought in big bunches 
of willows and tucked them about him, 
as he had desired. 

Truly our prairies have been a stage 
upon which much 'more of tragedy than 
of comedy has been enacted. 



CHAPTER III. 

''But Somewhere the Master Has 
A Counterpart of Each." 

''O Lord Almighty, aid Thou me to 
see my way more clear. I find it hard to 
tell right from wrong, and I find myself 
beset with tangled wires. O God, I feel 
that I am ignorant, and fall into many 
devices. These are strange paths where- 
in Thou hast set my feet, but I feel that 
through Thy help and through great an- 
guish, I am learning." 

This modern prayer, as prayed by tlie 
hero of a modern tale, would have fitted 
most completely into the spirit and con- 
ditions prevailing in our camp on a cer- 
tain morning in early June, 1852, as we 
were completing arrangements prepara- 
tory to the extremely dangerous crossing 
of the Platte River, owing to its treacher- 
ous quicksand bottom. 

Despite the old proverb, "Never cross 
a bridge till you get to it," we had, be- 
cause of the very absence of a bridge, 
been running ahead of ourselves during 
the entire trip, to make the dreaded cross- 

32 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 33 

ing over this deceptive and gormandizing 
stream. We had now caught up with 
our imaginings and found them to be 
reahties. There was not much joshing 
among the boys that morning as we made 
the rounds of the horses and wagons and 
saw that every buckle and strap and gear 
was in the best possible condition, for to 
halt in the stream to adjust a mishap 
would mean death. ''Once started, never 
stop," was the ominous admonition of 
the hour. 

About 9 o'clock, all things being in 
readiness, two of us were sent out to wade 
across the river and mark the route by 
sticking in the sand long willow branches, 
with which we were laden for that pur- 
pose. The route staked, we returned and 
the train lined up. It need not require 
any great feat of imagination on the part 
of the reader to heax how dirge-like the 
first hoofs and wheels sounded as they 
parted the waters and led the way. Every 
man except the drivers waded alongside 
the horses to render assistance if it should 
be required. Mrs. Wads worth was re- 
markably brave, sitting her wagon with 
white, but calm face. Scarcely a word 
was spoken during the entire crossing, 
which occupied about twenty-five min- 



34 Along the Overland Trail, 

utes. We passed on the way the re- 
mains of two or three wagons standing on 
end and nearly buried in the sand. They 
were grewsome reminders of what had 
been, as well as of what might be. But 
without a halt or break, we drove clear 
through and on to dry land. To say that 
we all felt happy at seeing the crossing 
behind us does not half express our feel- 
ings. The nervous strain had been ter- 
rible, and at no time in our journey had 
we been so nearly taxed to the utmost. 
One man dug out a demijohn of brandy 
from his traps and treated all hands, re- 
marking, "That the success of that imder- 
taking merits something extraordinary." 

The crossing was made at the South 
Fork of the Platte, immediately where it 
flows into the main river. What is now 
known as North Platte and South Platte 
was then known as North Fork and South 
Fork of Platte River. 

It was at the South Fork and just be- 
fore we crossed that I shot and killed my 
first buffalo. It was also very early in 
the morning, and while I was still on 
guard duty. A bunch of five of them 
came down to the river to drink, buffalo 
being as plentiful in that region, and time, 
as domestic cattle are here today. My 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 35 

first shot only wounded the creature, who 
led me quite a lively chase before I suc- 
ceeded in killing him. We soon had his 
hide off, and an abundance of luscious, 
juicy steak for breakfast. I remember 
that we sent some to another company 
that was camping not far distant. This 
was our first and last fresh meat for many 
a day. 

A few days after this an incident oc- 
curred in camp that bordered on the 
tragic, but finally ended in good feeling. 
My guard mate, named Charley Stewart, 
and myself were the two youngest in the 
company, and, being guards together, 
were great friends. He was a native of 
Cmcinnati, well educated, and had a fund 
of stories and recitations that he used to 
get off when we were on guard together. 
This night we were camped on the side 
of some Httle hills near some ravines. The 
moon was shining, but there were dark 
clouds occasionally passing, so that at 
times it was quite dark. It was near 
midnight and we would be relieved in an 
hour. We had been the ''grand rounds" 
out among the stock, and came to the 
nearest wagon which was facing the ani- 
mals'^that were picketed out on the slope. 
Stewart was armed with a ''Colt's Army, " 



36 Aloxg the Ovf.kland Trail, 

while I had a double-barreled shot-gun, 
loaded with buckshot. I was sitting on 
the double- tree, on the right side of the 
tongue, which was propped up with the 
neck-yoke. Stewart sat on the tongue, 
about an arm's length ahead of me, I 
holding my gun between my knees, with 
the butt on the ground. Stewart was 
getting off one of his stories, and, had 
about reached the climax, when I saw 
something running low to the ground, in 
among the stock. Thinking it was an 
Indian, on all fours, to stampede the 
animals, I instantly leveled my gun, and, 
as I was following it to an opening in 
the herd, my gun came in contact with 
Stewart's face at the moment of discharge, 
Stewart falling backward, hanging to the 
wagon-tongue by his legs and feet. My 
first thought was that I had killed him. 
He recovered in a moment, and began 
cursing and calling me vile names ; accus- 
ing me of attempting to murder him, etc. 
During these moments, in his frenzy, he 
was trying to get his revolver out from 
under him, swearing he would kill me. 
Taking in the situation, I dropped my 
gun, jumped over the wagon tongue, as 
he was getting on to his feet, and en- 
gaged in what proved to be a desperate 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 37 

fight for the revolver. We were both 
sometimes struggling on the ground, then 
again on our knees, he repeatedly striking 
me in the face and elsewhere, still ac- 
cusing me of trying to murder him. As 
I had no chance to explain things, the 
struggle went on. Finally I threw him, 
and held him down until he was too much 
exhausted to continue the fight any 
longer, and, having wrested the revolver 
from him, I helped him to his feet. In 
trying to pacify him, I led him out to 
where the object ran that I had fired at, 
and there lay the dead body of a large gray 
wolf, with several buckshot holes in his 
side. 

Stewart was speechless. Looking at 
the wolf, and then at me, he suddenly 
realized his mistake, andrepeatedly begged 
my pardon. We agreed never to mention 
the affair to any one in the company. 
Taking the wolf by the ears, we dragged 
him back to the wagon, where I picked 
up my gun, and gave Stewart his revolver. 
I have often thought what would have 
been the consequence of that shot, had I 
not killed the wolf. 

Along in this vicinity, the bluff comes 
down^to the river, and, consequently, we 
had to take to the hills, which were most- 



38 Aloxg the- Overland Trail^ 

ly deep sand, making heavy hauling. This 
trail brought us into Ash Hollow, a few' 
miles from its mouth. Coming down to 
where it opened out on the Platte, about 
noon, we turned out for lunch. Here was 
a party of Sioux Indians, camped in tents 
made of buffalo skins. They were friend- 
1}^ as all of that tribe were that summer. 
This is the place where General Kearney, 
several years later, had a terrific battle 
with the same tribe, which was then on 
the war-path along this valley. 

My hoodoo wheel had recently been 
giving me trouble. The spokes that I 
made of green oak, having become dr}^ 
and wobbly, I had been on the outlook 
for a cast-off wheel, that I might appro- 
priate the spokes. Hence it was, that, 
after luncheon I took my rifle, and started 
out across the bottom, where, within a 
few rods of the river, and about a half a 
mile off the road which turned close along 
the bluff, I came upon an old broken- 
down wagon, almost hidden in the grass. 
Taking the measure of the spokes, I found 
to my great joy, that they were just the 
right size and length. Looking around, 
I saw the train moving on, at a good pace, 
'almost three-quarters of a mile away. I 
was delayed some time in getting the 



N"ebraska Territory, 1852. 39 

wheel off the axle-tree. Succeeding at 
last, I fired my rifle toward the train, but 
no one looked around, all evidently sup- 
posing that I was on ahead. 

It was an awful hot afternoon, and I 
was getting warmed up myself. I re- 
loaded my rifle, looked at the receding 
train, and made up my mind to have that 
wheel if it took the balance of the day to 
get it into camp. I started by rolling it 
by hand, then by dragging it behind me, 
then I ran my rifle through the hub and 
got it up on my shoulder, when I moved 
off at a good pace. The sun shining hot, 
soon began to melt the tar in the hub, 
which began running down my back, both 
on the inside and outside of my clothes, 
as well as down along my rifle. I finally 
got back to the road, very tired, stopping 
to rest, hoping a wagon would come along 
to help me out, but not one came in sight 
that afternoon. In short, I rolled, drag- 
ged and carried that wheel; my neck, 
shoulders and back daubed over with tar, 
until the train turned out to camp, when, 
I being missed, was discovered away back 
in. the road with my wheel. When relief 
came to me, I was nearly tired out with 
my exertions, and want of water to drink. 

Some of the men set to work taking 



40 Along the Overland Trail^ 

the wheel apart and fitting the spokes and 
getting the wheel ready to set the tire.. 
Others had collected a couple of gunny- 
sacks full of the only fuel of the Platte 
Valley, viz., "buffalo -chips," and they 
soon had the job completed. The boys 
nearly wore themselves out, laughing and 
jeering at me, saying they were sorry they 
had no feathers to go with the tar, and 
calling me a variety of choice pet names. 

The wheel, when finished and adjust- 
ed, proved to be the best part of the wag- 
on, and, better than all else, had pro- 
vided a season of mirth to the whole com- 
pany, which, considering the all too seri- 
ous environments of our march, was really 
a much needed tonic and diversion. 

We learned so many wonderful lessons 
in those days, lessons that have never 
been made into books. We learned from 
nature; we learned from animal nature; 
we learned from human nature; and 
where are they who studied from the 
same page as did I? So often and so 
completely have the slides been changed, 
that among all the faces now shown by 
life's stereopticon, mine alone remains of 
the original twenty-five, of the trail of '52. 
But somewhere the Master has a counter- 
part of each. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Our Prairies are a Book, Whose 
Pages Hold Many Stories. 

We have just been passing through 
an extremely interesting portion of Ne- 
braska, a portion which today is known as 
Western Nebraska, where those wonder- 
ful formations, Scott's Bluff, Courthouse 
Rock and Chimney Rock, are standing 
now, even as they did in the early '50 's. 
Courthouse Rock a little way off really 
looked a credit to its name. It was a 
huge affair, and, in its ragged, irregular 
outline, seemed to impart to the traveller 
a sense of protection and fair dealing. 

Scott's Bluff was an immense forma- 
tion, and sometime during its history 
nature's forces had cleft it in two parts, 
making an avenue through its center at 
least one hundred feet wide, through 
which we all passed, as the trail led 
through instead of around the bluff. 

Chimney Rock in outline resembled 
an immense funnel. The whole thing 
was at least two hundred feet in height, 
the chimney part, starting about midway, 

41 



42 Aloxg ti-ie Overland Trail, 

was about fifty feet square ; its top sloped 
off like the roof of a shanty. Beginning 
at the top, the chimney was split down 
about one quarter of its length. On the 
perpendicular part of this rock a good 
many names had been cut by men who 
had scaled the base, and, reaching as far 
on to the chimney as they could, cut their 
names into its surface. So clear was the 
atmosphere that when several miles dis- 
tant we could see the rock and men who 
looked like ants as they crept and crawled 
up its sides. 

As one stops to decipher the inscrip- 
tions upon this boulder the sense of dis- 
tance is entirely lost, and the traveller 
finds himself trying to compare it with 
that other obelisk in Central Park, New. 
York. As he thinks about them, the 
truth comes gradually to him that there 
can be no comparison, since the one is a 
masterpiece from the hand of Nature and 
the other is but a work of art. 

These fonnations are not really rock, 
but of a hard marie substance, and while 
each is far remote from the others, the 
same colored strata is seen in all of them, 
showing conclusively that once upon a 
time the surface of the ground in that 
region was many feet higher than it was 



Nebraska Territory, 1852._ 43 

in 1852 or than it is today, and that 
by erosion or upheaval large portions of 
the soil were displaced and carried away, 
these three chunks remaining intact and 
as specimens of conditions existing many 
centuries ago. 

I have been through the art galleries 
of our own country and through many of 
those in Europe ; I have seen much of the 
natural scenery in the Old World as well 
as in the New; but not once have I seen 
anything which surpassed in loveliness and 
grandeur the pictures which may be seen 
throughout Nature's gallery in Nebraska 
and through which the trail of '52 led us. 
Landscapes, waterscapes, rocks, and skies 
and atmosphere were. here found in the 
perfection of light, shadow, perspective, 
color, and effect. Added to these fixed 
features were those of life and animation, 
contributed by herds of buffalo grazing 
on the plains, here and there a bunch of 
antelope galloping about, and the every- 
where wolf, coyote, and prairie dog, while 
a quaint and picturesque chaiTQ came 
from the far-reaching line of covered 
wagons and the many groups of campers, 
each with its own curl of ascending smoke, 
which, to the immigrant, always indi- 
cated that upon that particular patch of 



44 Along the Overland Trail,. 

ground, for that particular time, a home 
had been estabhshed. 

In this connection I find myself think- 
ing about the various modes of travel 
resorted to in those primitive days, when 
roads and bridges as we have them today 
were still far in the future. The wagons 
were generally drawn by cattle teams, 
from two to five yokes to the wagon. The 
number of wagons would be all the way 
from one to one hundred. The larger 
trains were difficult to pass, as they took 
up the road for so long a distance that 
that sometimes we would move on in the 
night in order to get past them. Among 
the smaller teams we would frequently 
notice that one yoke would be of cows, 
some of them giving milk right along. 
The cattle teams as a rule started out 
earlier in the morning and drove later at 
night than did the horse and mule teams ; 
hence, we would sometimes see a certain 
train for two or three days before we 
would have an opportunity to get ahead 
of them. This was the cause of frequent 
quarrels among drivers of both cattle and 
horse teams ; the former being largely in 
the majority and having the road, many 
of them seemed to take delight in keep- 
ing the horse teams out of the road and 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 45 

crowding them into narrow places. These 
Httle pleasantries were indulged in gen- 
erally by people from Missouri, as many 
of them seemed to think their State cov- 
ered the entire distance to California. 
As to classes and conditions constitu- 
ting the immigration, they might be divid- 
ed up somewhat as follows: There were 
the proprietors or partners, owners of the 
teams and outfits; then there were men 
going along with them who had bargained 
with the owners before leaving home, 
some for a certain amount paid down, 
some to work for a certain time or to pay 
a certain amount at the journey's end. 
This was to pay for their grub and use of 
tents and wagons. These men were also 
to help drive and care for the stock, do- 
ing their share of camp and guard duty. 
There were others travelling with a single 
pack animal, loaded with their outfits 
and provisions. These men always trav- 
elled on foot. Then there were some 
with hand-carts, others with wheelbar- 
rows, trudging along and making good 
time. Occasionally we would see a man 
with a pack like a knapsack on his back 
and a canteen strapped on to him and a 
long cane in either hand. These men 
would just walk away from everybody. 



46 -Alokg the Overland Trail, 

A couple of incidents along here will serve 
to show how these conditions sometimes 
worked. 

We were turned into camp one even- 
ing, and as we were getting supper there 
came along a man pushing a light hand- 
cart, loaded with traps and provisions, 
and asked permission to camp with us, 
which was readily granted. He was a 
stout, hearty, good-natured fellow, pos- 
sessed of a rich Irish accent, and in the 
best of humor commenced to prepare his 
supper. Just about this time there came 
into camp another lone man, leading a 
diminutive donke}^ not much larger than 
a good-sized sheep. The donkey, on 
halting, gave Us a salute that simply 
silenced the ordinary mule. The two 
men got acquainted immediately, and by 
the time their supper was over they had 
struck a bargain to put their effects to- 
gether by way of hitching the donke}^ to 
the cart, and so move on together. They 
made a collar for the donkey out of gunny- 
sack, and we gave them some rope for 
traces. Then, taking off the hand-bar of 
the cart, they put the donkey into the 
shafts and tried things on by leading it 
around through the camp till it was time 
to turn in. 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 47 

Everything went first-rate, and they 
were so happy over their transportation 
prospects that they scarcely slept during 
the whole night. In the morning they 
were up bright .and early, one making the 
coffee and the other oiling the iron axle- 
trees and packing the cart. Starting out 
quite early, they bade us goodby with 
hearty cheer, saying they would let the 
folks in California know that we were 
coming, etc. About 10 o'clock we came 
to a little narrow creek, the bottom being 
miry and several feet below the surface 
of the ground. There upon the bank 
stood the two friends who had so joyously 
bidden us goodby only a few hours before. 
The cart was a wreck, with one shaft and 
one spindle broken. It appeared that 
the donkey had got mired in crossmg the 
creek and in floundering about had twist- 
ed off the shaft and broken one of the 
wheels. We left them there bewaihng 
their misfortune and blaming each other 
for the carelessness which worked^ the 
mishap. We never saw them again. 

This incident is an illustration of those 
cases where a man obtained his passage 
by contributing something to the outfit 
and working his way through. There 



48 Aloxg the Overland Trail, 

were quite a number of this class, they 
having no property rights in the train. 
At the usual time we turned in for 
dinner near by a camp of two or three 
wagons. On the side of one wagon was 
a doctor's sign, who, we afterwards learn- 
ed, was the proprietor of the train. As 
we were quietly eating and resting we 
suddenly heard some one cursing and yell- 
ing in the other camp, and saw two men, 
one the hired man and the other the doc- 
tor, the latter being armed with a neck- 
yoke and chasing the hired man around 
the wagon, and both running as fast as 
they could. They had made several cir- 
cuits, the doctor striking at the man with 
all his might at each turn, when some 
of us went over to try to stop the fight. 
Just at this point, the hired man, as he 
turned the rear of the wagon, whipped 
out an Allen revolver and turning shot 
the doctor in the mouth, the charge com- 
ing out nearly under the ear. The doctor 
and the neckyoke struck the ground about 
the same time. His eyes were blinded 
by powder and he had the appearance of 
being dangerously if not fatally wounded. 
Everybody was more or less excited ex- 
cept the hired man. From expressions 
all around in both trains, the hired man 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 49 

seemed to have the most friends. There 
were many instances of this kind, though 
none quite so tragic, the quarrels usually 
arising from the owner of the wagons con- 
stantly brow-beating and finding fault 
with the hired man. 

Again I saw an instance where two 
men were equal partners all around, in 
four horses, harness and wagon. They 
seemed to have quarreled so much that 
they agreed to divide up and quit travel- 
ling together. They divided up their 
horses and provisions, and then measur- 
ed off the wagon-bed and sawed it in two 
parts, also the reach, and then flipped a 
copper cent to see which should have the 
front part of the wagon. After the divis- 
ion they each went to work and fixed up 
his part of the wagon as best he could, 
and drove on alone. 

The entire trip from Monroe, Michi- 
gan, our starting-point, to Hangtown, 
the point of landing in California, covered 
2,542 miles, and we were five months, 
lacking six days, in making it. Today 
the same trip can be made in a half week, 
with every comfort and luxury which 
money and invention can provide. There 
is probably nothing that marks the pro- 
gress of civilization more distinctly than 



50 Along the Overland Trail^ 

do the perfected modes and conveniences 
of travel. It is strange, but true, how- 
ever, that so long as our prairies shall 
stretch themselves from river to ocean the 
imprint of the overland trail can never be 
obliterated. Today, after a lapse of over 
fifty years, whoever passes within seeing 
distance of the old trail can, upon the 
crest of grain and grass, note its serpen- 
tine windings, as marked by a light and 
sickly color of green. I myself have fol- 
lowed it from a car-window as traced in 
yellow green upon an immense field of 
growing corn. No amount of cultivation 
can ever restore to that long- trodden path 
its pristine vigor and productiveness. 

Our prairies are a book, 
Whose pages hold many stories 
Writ by many people. 
Tragedy, comedy, pathos, 
Love and valor, duly 
Punctuated by life's 
Rests and stops, 
Whose interest shall appeal 
To human hearts as long as 
T.'ieir green cover enfolds them. 



CHAPTER V. 

A Worthy Object Reached For and 
Missed is a First Step Toward Success. 

Who, among the many persons con- 
tributing for a wage, to the convenience 
of everyday Hfe in these latter times, is 
more waited and watched for, and brings 
more of joy, and more of sorrow when he 
comes, than the postman. 

In the days of traihng, our post accom- 
modations were extremely few and very 
far between. There were no mailing 
points, except at the government forts. 
Fort Kearney and Laramie being the 
only two on the entire trip, soldiers car- 
rying the mail to and from the forts either 
wa3\ After leaving Fort Kearney, the 
next mailing point east, was Fort Laramie. 

Before leaving home, I had been en- 
trusted with a package of letters by Hon. 
Isaac P. Christiancy, from his wife, to 
her brother, James McClosky, who had 
been on the plains some fourteen years, 
and who was supposed to be living near 
Fort Laramie. When within a couple of 
days ' drive of the fort we came to a build- 

51 



52 Along the Overlaitd Teail^ 

ing which proved to be a store, and which 
was surrounded by several wigwams. 
Upon halting and going into the store, 
we found ourselves face to face with the 
man we were wanting to meet, Mr. Mc- 
Closky. He was glad to see us, and over- 
joyed to receive the package of letters. 
He stepped out of doors and gave a whoop 
or two, and immediately Indians began 
to come in from all directions. He order- 
ed them to take our stock out on the 
ranch, feed and guard it, and bring it in 
in the morning. He treated us generous- 
ly to supper and breakfast, including 
many delicacies to which we had long 
been strangers. In consideration of my 
bringing the letters to him, he invited 
me to sleep in his store, and, in the morn- 
ing, introduced me to his Indian wife and 
two sons, also, to several other women 
who were engaged in an adjoining room, 
in cutting and making buckskin coats, 
pants* and moccasins, presenting me with 
an elegant pair of the latter. His wife 
was a bright and interesting woman, to 
whora he was deeply attached. His two 
boys were bright, manly fellows, the oldest 
of whom, about ten years old, was soon 
to be taken to St. Joe or Council Bluffs 
and placed in school. 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 53 

At an early hour in the morning, the 
Indians brought in the stock, in fine con- 
dition, and we hitched up and bade our 
host goodbye. He sent word to his sister 
at home, and seemed much affected at 
our parting. This was the first morning 
when, in starting out, we knew anything 
about what was ahead of us; what we 
woidd meet, or what the roads and cross- 
ings would be. In fact, every one we 
saw, were going the same as ourselves, 
consequently, all were quite ignorant of 
what the day might bring forth. On this 
morning, we knew the conditions of the 
roads for several days ahead, and, that 
Fort Laramie was thirty-six miles before 
us. 

Shortly after going into camp toward 
sunset, a party of horsemen was seen gal- 
loping toward us, who, on nearer ap- 
proach, proved to be a band of ten or 
twelve Indians. When within about one 
hundred yards, they halted and dismount- 
ed, each holding his horse. The chief 
rode up to us, saluted and dismounted. 
He was a sharp-eyed young fellow, show- 
ing beneath his blanket the dress-coat of 
a private soldier and non-commissioned 
officer's sword. He gave us to under- 



54 x4lL0ng the Overland Trail, 

stand that they were Sioux, and had been 
on the warpath for some Pawnees, also 
that they were hungry and would like to 
have us give them something to eat. 
After assuring him that we would do so, 
he ordered his men to advance, which 
they did after picketing their ponies, com- 
ing up and setting themselves on the grass 
in a semi-circle. 

We soon noticed that they carried 
spears made of a straight sword-blade 
thrust into the end of a staff. On two or 
three of the spears w^ere dangling one or 
more fresh scalps, on which the blood was 
yet scarcely dry. On pointing to them, 
one of the Indians drew his knife, and 
taking a weed by the top, quickly cut it 
off, saying as he did so, "Pawnees." His 
illustration of how the thing was done 
was entirely satisfactory. 

We gave the grub to the chief, who in 
turn, handed it out to the men as they sat 
on the ground. When through eating, 
they mounted their ponies, waved us a 
salute and were off. 

The balance of the day was spent in 
writing home letters, which we expected 
to deliver on the morrow at the post. 

About 9 o'clock the next morning, we 
came to Laramie River, near where it 



ITebraska Territory, 1852. 55 

empties into the North Platte, which we 
crossed on a bridge, the first one we had 
seen on the whole route. At this point 
a road turns off, leading up to the fort, 
about one mile distant. Being selected 
to deliver the mail, I rode out to the fort, 
which was made up of a parade-ground 
protected by earth-works, with the usual 
stores, quarters, barracks, etc., the sutler 
and post-office being combined. On en- 
tering the sutler s, about the first person 
I saw was the young leader of the Indians, 
who had lunched at our camip the after- 
noon before. He was now dressed in the 
uniform of a soldier, recognizing me as 
soon as we met with a grunt and a ''How. " 
Delivering the m.ail, I rode out in an- 
other direction to intercept the train. 
When about one-half mile from the fort 
I came to a sentinel, pacing his beat all 
alone. He was just as neat and clean as 
though doing duty at the general's head- 
quarters, with his spotless white gloves, 
polished gun, and accoutrements. In a 
commanding. tone of voice, he ordered me 
to halt. Asking permission to pass, w^hich 
was readily granted, I rode on a couple of 
miles, when I met some Indians with their 
families, who were on the march with 
ponies, dogs, women, and papooses. 



56 Along the OvnmLAND Trail, 

Long spruce poles were lashedjeach 
side of the ponies' necks, the other ends 
trailing on the ground. The poles, being 
slatted across, were made to hold their 
plunder or very old people and sometimes 
the women and children. The dogs, like 
the ponies, were all packed with a pole or 
two fastened to their necks; the whole 
making an interesting picture. 

Overtaking the train about noon, we 
camped at Bitter Cottonwood Creek, the 
location being beautifully described by 
the author of the novel, "Prairie Flower." 

Our standard rations during these 
days consisted of hardtack, bacon, and 
coffee ; of course, varying it as we could 
whenever we came to a Government fort. 
I recall how, on a certain Sunday after- 
noon, we men decided to make some 
doughnuts, as we had saved some fat 
drippings from the bacon. Not one of 
us had any idea as to the necessary in- 
gredients or the manner of compound- 
ing them, but we remembered how dough- 
nuts used to look and taste at home. So 
we all took a hand at them, trying to imi- 
tate the pattern as well as our ignorance 
and poor judgment would suggest. Well, 
they looked a trifle peculiar, but we 
thoroughly enjoyed them, for they were 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 57 

the first we had since leaving home, and 
proved to be the last until we were board- 
ing in California. 

One thing was sure ; our outdoor mode 
of living gave us fine appetites and a keen 
relish for almost anything. And then 
again, persons can endure almost any sort 
of privation as long as they can see a gold 
mine ahead of them, from which they are 
sure to fill their pockets with nuggets of 
the pure stuff. What a happy arrange- 
ment it is on the part of Providence that 
not too much knowledge of the future 
comes to us at any one time! Just 
enough to keep us pushing forward and 
toward the ideal we have set for ourselves, 
which, even though we miss it, adds 
strength to purpose as well as to muscle. 
A worthy object reached for and missed 
is a first step towards success. 



CHAPTER VI. 

'"Tis Only a Snowbank's Tears, 
I Ween." 

We are now approaching the foot-hills 
of the Rocky Mountains. The fertile 
plains through which we have been pass- 
ing are being merged into rocky hills, the 
level parts being mostly gravelly barrens. 
The roads are hard and flinty, like pound- 
ed glass, which were making some of the 
cattle-teams and droves very lame and 
foot-sore. When one got so it could not 
walk, it was killed and skinned. Other 
lame ones were lashed to the side of a 
heavy wagon, partially sunk in the 
ground, their lame foot fastened on the 
hub of a wheel, when a piece of the raw 
hide was brought over the hoof and fast- 
ened about the fet-lock, protecting the 
hoof until it had time to heal. This mode 
of veterinary treatment, although crude, 
lessened the suffering among the cattle 
very materially. 

The streams along here, the La Barge, 
La B«Dnte, and Deer Creek, were all shallow 
with rocky bottoms and excellent water. 



Nebeaska Territory, 1852. 59 

Here we frequently took the stock upon 
the hills at night, where the bunch-grass 
grows among the sage brush. This grass, 
as its name indicates, grows in bunches 
about a foot high and about the same in 
diameter, bearing a profusion of yellow 
seeds about the size of a kernel of wheat. 
This makes excellent feed, and the stock 
is very fond of it. 

At this point Mother Nature is gradu- 
ally changing the old scenes for new ones. 
.The big brawny mountains with their lit- 
tle ones clustered at their feet are just 
before us ; while the Platte River, which 
for many miles has been our constant 
companion, will soon be a thing of the 
past, as we are close to the crossing, and 
once over we shall see the river no more. 
This river which stretches itself in grace- 
ful curves across an entire State, is one of 
peculiar construction and characteristics. 
At a certain point it is terrifying, even to 
its best friends. In curve, color, contour, 
and graceful foliage, it is a magnificent 
stretch of beauty; while as a stream of 
utility its presence has ever been a bene- 
diction to the country through which it 
passes. As a tribute to its general excel- 
lence, I place here the beautiful lines 



60 Along the Overland Trail, 

(name of author unknown to me), enti- 
tled: 

In the Cradle of The Platte. • 

A little stream in the canon ran, 

In the canon deep and long, 
When a stout old oak at its side began 

To sing to it this song, 

"Oh, why do you laugh and weep and sing, 

And why do you hurry by, 
For you 're only a noisy little thing. 

While a great strong oak am I; 
A hundred years I shall stand alone. 

And the world will look at me; 
While you will bubble and babble on 

And die at last in the sea." 

"So proud and lofty," the stream replied, 
"You're a king of the forest true; 

But your roots were dead and your leaves all dried 
Had I not watered you." 

The oak tree rustled its leaves of green 

To the little stream below; 
" 'Tis only a snowbank's tears, I ween. 

Could talk to a monarch so. 
But where are you going so fast, so fast. 

And what do you think to do? 
Is there anything in the world at last 

For a babbling brook like you?" 

"So fast, so fast, — why should I wait," 

The hurrying water said, 
"When yonder by the caiion gate 

The farmer waits for bread? 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 61 

Out on the rainless desert land 

My hurrying footsteps go; 
I kiss the earth, I kiss the sand, 

I make the harvest grow. 

"And many a farmer, when the sky 

Has turned to heated brass. 
And all the plain is hot and dry, 

Gives thanks to see me pass. 
By many a sluice and ditch and lane 

They lead me left and right. 
For it is I who turns the plain 

To gardens of delight." 

Then hurrying on, the dashing stream 

Into a river grew, 
And rock and mountain made a seam 

To let its torrent through; 
And where the burning desert lay, 

A happy river ran; 
A thousand miles it coursed its way. 

And blessed the homes of man. 

Vain was the oak tree's proud conceit. 

Dethroned the monarch lay; 
The brook that babbled at its feet 

Had washed its roots away. 
Still in the canon's heart there springs 

The desert's diadem. 
And shepherds bless the day that brings 

The snow-bank's tears to tkem. 

We crossed the river on a ferry-boat 
that was large enough to hold four wag- 
ons and some saddle-horses. The boat 
was run by a cable stretched taut up 



62 Along the Overland Trail^ 

stream fifteen or twenty feet from the 
boat. A line from the bow and stern of 
the boat connected it with a single block 
which ran on the cable. When ready to 
start, the bow-line was hauled taut, the 
stern line slacked off to the proper angle, 
when, the current passing against the side 
of the boat, it was propelled across very 
rapidly. The river here was rapid, the 
water cold and deep, with a strong under- 
current. 

We had to wait nearly a whole day 
before it came our turn to take our wag- 
ons over. In the meantime we were de- 
tailed as follows : Ten men were selected 
to get the wagons aboard the boat, cross 
over with them and guard them until all 
were carried over ; three or four men were 
sent across and up the river to catch and 
care for the stock as it came out of the 
river near a clump of cottonw^oods. One 
of the company, named Owen Powers, a 
strong, courageous young man and a good 
swimmer, volunteered to ride the lead 
horse in and across to induce the other 
animals to follow, the balance of the com- 
pany herding them, as they were all loose 
near the edge of the river. When every- 
thing was ready, Powers stripped off, and 
mounting the horse he had selected, rode 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 63 

out into the stream. The other animals, 
forty-seven of them followed, and 
when a few feet frorri the shore had to 
swim. Everything was going all right 
until Powers reached the middle of the 
river, when an undercurrent struck his 
horse, laying him over partly on his side. 
Powers leaned forward to encourage his 
horse, when the animal suddenly threw 
up his head, striking him a terrible blow 
squarely in the face. He was stunned 
and fell off alongside the horse. It now 
seemed as thf)ugh both he and his horse 
would be drowned, as all the other stock 
began to press close up to them. He soon 
recovered, however, and as he partially 
pulled himself on to his horse, we could 
plainly see that his face and breast were 
covered with blood. We shouted at him 
words of encouragement, cheering him 
from both sides of the river. While his 
struggling form was hanging to the 
horse's mane, the other animals all floun- 
dered about him, pulling for the shore for 
dear life. The men on the other side were 
ready to catch him as he landed, nearly 
exhausted by his struggles and the blow 
he had received. They carried him up 
the bank and leaned him against a tree, 
one man taking care of him while the 



64 Along the Overland Trail, 

others caught the animals, or rather cor- 
ralled them, until the rest of us got across 
and went to their assistance. We brought 
the young man's clothes with us and fixed 
him up, washing him and stanching his 
bleeding nose and mouth. He had an 
awful looking face; his eyes w^ere black- 
ened, nose flattened and mouth cut. How- 
ever, he soon revived and was helped by 
a couple of the men down to the wagons. 
We then gathered the stock, went down 
to the train, hitched up, and drove into 
camp. 

We now soon came to the Sweetwater 
River. The country here is more hilly 
and rocky, and the valleys narrower and 
more barren. The main range of Wind 
River Mountains could be plainly seen in 
the distance, while close upon our left 
were the Sweetwater Mountains. The 
difference in scenery after leaving the 
river and plains was such as to awaken 
new emotions and fire one with a new 
kind of admiration. The immensity and 
fixedness of the mountains awakened a 
keener sense of stability, of firmness of 
purpose, and a sort of expect great things 
and do great things spirit; while the sense 
of beauty appreciation was in no wise nar- 
rowed as it followed the lights and shades 



ISTebiuska Territory, 1852 65 

of jut and crevice, and the rosy, scintilat- 
ing bits of sun as a new day dropped them 
with leisure hand upon summit and sides, 
or later the tender glow of crimson and 
blue and gold, as the gathered sun-bits 
trailed themselves behind the mountains 
for the night. 

When making up our outfit back in 
the States, by oversight or want of knowl- 
edge of what we would need, we had neg- 
lected to lay in a supply of horse-nails, 
which we now began to be sorely in need 
of, as the horses' shoes were fast wearing 
out and becoming loose. It was just here 
that we came one day to a man sitting by 
the roadside with a half -bushel measure 
full of horse nails to sell at the modest 
price of a ''bit" or twelve and one-half 
cents apiece. No amount of remon- 
strance or argument about taking advant- 
age of one's necessity could bring down 
the price ; so I paid him ten dollars in gold 
for eighty nails. I really wanted to be 
alone with that man for awhile, I loved 
him so. He, like some others who had 
crossed the plains before, knew of the op- 
portunity to sell such things as the trailers 
might be short of at any price they might 
see fit to ask 



66 Along the Overland Trail^ 

It was here, too, that we came upon 
the great Independence Rock, an im- 
mense boulder, lying isolated on the bank 
of the Sweetwater River. It was oblong, 
with an oval-shaped top, as large as a 
block of buildings. It was of such form 
that parties could walk up and over it 
lengthwise, thereby getting a fine view 
of the surrounding country. 

About a mile beyond was the Devil's 
Gate, a crack or rent in the mountain, 
which was probably about fifty feet wide, 
the surface of the walls showing that by 
some sort of force they had been separ- 
ated, projections on one side finding cor- 
responding indentations on the other. 
The river in its original course had run 
around the range, but now it ran leaping 
and roaring through the Gate. 

There was considerable alkali in this 
section. We had already lost two horses 
from drinking it, and several others barely 
recovered from the effects. 



CHAPTER VII. 

We Stepped Over the Ridge and 

Courted the Favor of New 

AND Untried Waters. 

Between Independence Rock and 
Devil's Gate we cross the river, which is 
about four feet deep and thirty or forty 
feet wide. There was a man lying down 
in the shade of his tent, who had logs 
enough fastened together to hold one 
wagon, which he kindly loaned the use of 
for fifty cents for each wagon, we to do 
the work of ferrying. Rather than to wet 
our traps, we paid the price. The stock 
was driven through the ford. 

We camped at the base of some rocky 
cliffs, and while we were getting our sup- 
per an Indian was noticed peering from 
behind some rocks, taking a view of the 
camp. One of the boys got his rifle from 
the wagon and fired at him. He drew in 
his head and we saw no more of him, but 
kept a strong guard out all night. 

The trail that followed up the Sweet- 
water was generall}^ a very good road, 
with good camping-places and fair grass 
67 



68 Along the Overland Trail^ 

for stock ; while grass and sage brush for 
fuel and excellent water made the trip of 
about ninety miles very pleasant, as com- 
pared with some of the former route. 

We now came to the last-leaving of 
the Sweetwater, which is within ten miles 
of the highest elevation of the South Pass. 
The springs and the little stream on 
which we were camped, across which one 
could have stepped, was the last water we 
saw that flowed into the Atlantic. We 
were upon the summit or dividing line of 
the continent. With our faces to the 
southward, the stream at our left flowed 
east and into the Atlantic, while that 
upon our right flowed west into the 
Pacific. 

There was something not altogether 
pleasant in considering the conditions. 
Following and crossing and. studying the 
streams as we had so long been doing, it 
was not without a tinge of regret and bro- 
ken fellowship that we stepped over the 
ridge and courted the favor of new and 
untried waters. 

The abrupt ending of the great Wind 
River Mountain range was at our right. 
These mountains are always more or less 
capped with snow. To the south, per- 
haps one hundred miles, could be seen the 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 69 

main ridge of the Rocky Mountains loom- 
ing up faintly against the sky. The land- 
scape, looking at it from the camp, was 
certainly pleasing, if not beautiful. Dur- 
ing the day there could be seen bunches of 
deer, antelope, and elk grazing and run- 
ning about on the ridges, the whole mak- 
ing a picture never to be forgotten. The 
sky was clear, the air pure and invigor- 
ating, the sun shone warm by day and the 
stars bright at night. 
^■-^ The spot proved to be a ''parting of 
the'^ways" in^inore than one sense, for it 
was here, before the breaking of camp, 
that the company decided to separate, 
not as to interests, but as to modes of 
travel. 

Some of our wagons were pretty near- 
ly worn out, and, as we had but little in 
them, there were sixteen men who that 
night decided to give up their five wagons 
and resort to ''packing." Consequently 
the remaining three wagons, including 
Captain and Mrs. Wadsworth, bade us 
goodby and pulled out in the morning. 
This parting of the trail, as had been the 
case in the parting of the waters, was not 
without its smack of regret. For four 
months we had travelled as one family, 
each having at heart the interest and com- 



70 Aloxg the Overland Trail^ 

fort of the others. There had been days 
of sickness and an hour of death; there 
was a grave at the roadside; there had 
had been times of danger and dishearten- 
ment ; all of which marshalled themselves 
to memory's foreground as the question 
of division was talked pro and con by the 
entire family while camped at the base of 
the snow-capped mountains on that mid- 
summer night. 

After the dejjarture of the three wag- 
ons we who remained resolutely set our- 
selves to work to prepare, as best we 
could, ourselves and our belongings for 
the packing mode of travel. For three 
days and nights we remained there busily 
engaged. We took our wagons to pieces, 
cutting out such pieces as were necessary 
to make our pack saddles. One bunch 
of men worked at the saddles, another 
bunch separated the harnesses and put 
them in shape for the saddles, while 
others made big pouches or saddle-bags 
out of the wagon covers, in which to carry 
provisions and cooking utensils. 

The spot upon which our camp was 
located was in the vicinity of what is now 
known as Smith's Pass, Wyoming. Dur- 
ing one of our afternoons here Nature 
treated us to one of the grandest spec- 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 71 

tacles ever witnessed by mortal eyes. 
We first noticed a small cloud gathering 
about the top of the mountain, which 
presently commenced circling around 
the peak, occasionally reaching over far 
enough to drop down upon us a few 
sprinkles of water, although the sun was 
shining brightly where we were. As the 
cloud continued to circle, it increased in 
size, momentum, and density of color, 
spreading out like a huge umbrella. Soon 
thunder could be heard, growing louder 
and more frequent until it became one 
continuous roar, fairly shaking the earth. 
Long, vivid flashes of lightning chased 
each other in rapid succession over the 
crags and lost themselves in crevice and 
ravine. All work was forgotten. In fact, 
one would as soon think of making sad- 
dles in the immediate presence of the 
Almighty as in the presence of that ter- 
rific, but sublime spectacle upon the 
mountain heights. Every man stood in 
reverential attitude and gazed in speech- 
less wonder and admiration. David and 
Moses and the Christ had much to do with 
mountains in their day ; and, as we watch- 
ed the power of the elements that after- 
noon, we realized as never before how 
David could hear the floods clap their 



72 Along the Overland Trail, 

hands and see expressions of joy or anger 
upon the faces of the mountains ; and how 
Mount Sinai might have looked as it be- 
came the meeting-place of the Lord and 
Moses and the tables of stone. The 
storm lasted about an hour, and when at 
last Nature seemed to have exhausted 
herself the great mountain-top stood out 
again in the clear sunlight, wearing a new 
mantle of the whitest snow. 

During our three-days' camp we had 
a number of callers from other trains, 
also six or eight Indians, among whom 
we divided such things as we could not 
take with us. 

In the evening of the last day, we 
made a rousing camp-fire out of our wag- 
on wheels, which we piled on top of each 
other, kindling a fire under them, around 
which we became reminiscent and grew 
rested for an early start on the morrow. 

All things finally ready, we brought 
up the animals in the morning to fit their 
saddles and packs to them. One very 
quiet animal was packed with some camp- 
kettles, coffee-pots, and other cooking 
traps. As soon as he was let loose and 
heard the tinware rattle he broke and ran, 
bringing up in a quagmire up to his sides. 
The saddle had turned, and his hind feet 



Kebraska Territory, 1852. 73 

stepping into the pack well nigh ruined 
all our cooking utensils. 

We managed to pull him out of the 
mire and quieted him down, but we could 
never again put anything on him that 
rattled. We took our guns and provi- 
sions and only such clothing as we had 
on, leaving all else behind. I remember 
putting on a pair of new boots that I had 
brought from home, which I did not take 
off until I had been some time in Califor- 
nia, nor any other of my clothes, lying 
down in my blanket on the ground, hke 
the rest of the animals. 

As we turned out for noon, we saw off 
toward the mountain a drove of eleven 
elk. I took my rifle and creeping behind 
rocks and through ravines, tried to get in 
range of them, but with all my caution, 
they kept just beyond my reach. But I 
had a little luck toward night just as we 
were turning into camp. Out by a 
bunch of sagebrush sat the largest jack 
rabbit I ever saw. I raised my rifle and 
hit him squarely in the neck, killing him. 
I took him by the hind feet and slung him 
over my shoulder, and as I hung hold of 
his feet in front, his wounded neck came 
down to mv heels behind. His ears were 
as long as a mule's ears. We dressed it 



74 Along the Overland Trail^ 

and made it into rabbit stew by putting 
into the kettle first a layer of bacon and 
then one of rabbit, and then a layer of 
dumpling, which we made from flour and 
water, putting in layer after layer of this 
sort until our four camp-kettles were fill- 
ed. We had a late supper that night. 
It was between 9 and 10 o'clock before 
our stews were done to a turn, but what 
a luscious feast was ours when they were 
finally ready. I can think of no supper 
in my whole life that I have enjoyed so 
much as I did that one. We had plenty 
left over for our sixteen breakfasts the 
next morning, and some of the boys pack- 
ed the remainder as a relish for the noon 
meal. 

Soon after our start in the morning, 
we came to the Big Sandy, a stream tribu- 
tary to Green River. The land here had 
more of the appearance of a desert than 
any we had yet seen. Out on the plain 
the trail forked, the left hand leading via 
Fort Bridges and Salt Lake City, while 
the right hand led over what is known as 
Sublett's Cut-off. Being undecided as to 
which fork to follow, we finally submitted 
it to vote, which proved to be a large ma- 
jority in favor of the Cut-off, it having 



Nebraska TEERrroEY, 185'3. 75 

been reported that the Mormons were in- 
citing the Indians to attack immigrants. 

The road here was hard and flinty, 
and, for more than a mile passed down a 
steep hill, at the bottom of which we 
noticed that wagon tires were worn half 
through owing to the wheels being locked 
for such a long distance. 

This was Green River valley, and, 
where we made our crossing, the water 
being deep and cold, with a swift current. 
There was a good ferry, boat, on which, 
after nearly a day's waiting, we ferried 
over our pack animals at one dollar per 
head ; the balance of the stock we swam 
across. A short way on we had to ford a 
fork of the same river, and were then in 
an extremely mountainous country, up 
one side and down the other, until we 
reached Bear River valley." 

We came down off the uplands into 
the valley and beside the river to camp, 
where we had an experience as exasperat- 
ing as it was unexpected. vSeeing some 
fine looking grass, half knee high, we start- 
ed forit, when all at once clouds of the most 
persistent and venomous mosquitos filled 
the air, covering the animals, which began 
stamping and running about, some of 
them lying down and rolling in great tor- 



76 Along the Overland Trail, 

nient. We hurried the packs and sad- 
dles off them and sent a guard of men 
back to the hills with them. The rest of 
us wrapped ourselves head and ears and 
laid down in the grass without supper or 
water for man or beast. About 3 o'clock 
in the morning, the mosquitos having 
cooled down to some extent, the guard 
brought in the pack animals, which we 
loaded, and, like the Arab, ''silently stole 
away." Returning to the road and get- 
ting the balance of the stock, we moved 
along the base of the hills, and about sun- 
rise came to a beautiful spring branch, 
which crossed the trail, refreshing us with 
its cool, sparkling water. Here we went 
up into the hills and into camp for a day 
and a night, to rest and recuperate from 
our terrible experience of the night before. 
It was now the first of July. By 
keeping close to the base of the hills we 
found good travelling and an abundance 
of clear spring- water. At nights we camp- 
ed high up in the hills, where the mos- 
quito was not. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

We Had No Flag to Unfurl, But its 
Sentiment Was Within Us. * 

"It ought to be commemorated as the 
day of dehverance by solemn acts of de- 
votion to God Almighty. It ought to be 
solemnized with pomp and parade, with 
shows, games, sports, bells, bonfires and 
illuminations, from one end of this conti- 
nent to the other, from this time forward 
for evermore." 

These words, written by John Adams 
to his wife the day following the Declara- 
tion of Independence, and regarding that 
act and day, were evidently the sounding 
of the key-note of American patriotism. 

It has long been one of Uncle Sam's 
legends that *'he who starts across the 
continent is most sure to leave his religion 
on the east side of the Missouri river." 
Conditions in Nebraska to-day refute the 
truth of this statement, however. What- 
ever may be the rule or exception con- 
cerning an American traveller's religion, 
the genuineness of his patriotism and his 
fidelity to it are rarely questioned. Hence 

77 



78 Along the Overland Trml, 

it was that during the early July days the 
varied events of the past few months be- 
took themselves to the recesses of our na- 
tures, and patriotism asserted its right 
of pre-emption. 

The day of July 3d was somewhat 
eventful and perhaps somewhat prepara- 
tory to the 4th, in that I did a bit of horse- 
trading, as my riding-horse, through a 
hole in his shoe, had got a gravel into his 
foot, which. made him so lame, that I had 
been walking and leading him for the last 
ten days. We had just come to Soda 
Springs, where there was a village of Sho- 
shone Indians, numbering about one 
thousand, among whom was an Indian 
trader named McClelland, who was buy- 
ing or trading for broken-down stock. I 
soon struck him for a trade. He finally 
offered me, even up, a small native mule 
for my lame horse, and we soon traded. 
I then bought an Indian saddle for two 
dollars, and, mounting, rode back to 
camp with great joy to myself and amuse- 
ment, of the balance of the company. I 
had walked for the last two hundred 
miles, keeping up with the rest of them, 
and consequently was nearly broken 
down ; and now that I had what proved 
to be the toughest and easiest riding ani- 



NEBPiASKA Territory, 1852. 79 

mal in the bunch, I was to be congratu- 
lated. I afterwards saw the horse I had 
traded for the mule in Sacremento, hitch- 
ed to a dray. His owner valued him at 
four hundred dollars. 

We had gone into camp close to the 
Indians, right among their wigwams, in 
fact, and, though it was Independence 
eve, the weather was cool and chilling, 
which, together with the jabbering and 
grunting of the Indians and their papoos- 
es, made sleeping almost impossible. 

We had not been in camp more than 
an hour when three or four packers rode 
up on their way to the "States." They 
were the first persons travelling eastward 
that we had met since leaving the Mis- 
souri River. One of the men had been 
wounded with a charge of buckshot a few 
hours before, and there being no surgeon 
present, some of us held him while others 
picked out the shot and dressed his 
wounds. 

Soda Springs was in the extreme east- 
em part of what is now the State of Idaho, 
at which point there is a town bearing 
the same name, Soda Springs. Indeed, 
the 4th of July found us in a settlement 
of springs, Beer Spring and Steamboat 
Spring being in close proximity to Soda 



80 Along the Overland Trail^ 

Springs. Beer Spring is barrel-shaped, 
its surface about level with the ground 
surface. It was always full to the top, 
and we could look down into the water at 
least twenty feet and see large bubbles 
that were constantly rising, a few feet 
apart, one chasing another to the surface, 
where they immediately collapsed. The 
peculiarity of the water was that one could 
sip down a gallon at a time without any 
inconvenience. The celebrated Steam- 
boat Spring came out of a hole in a level 
rock. The water was quite hot, and the 
steam, puffing out at regular intervals, 
presented an interesting sight. 

We remained in camp during the fore- 
noon and celebrated the 4th of July as 
best we could. I am quite positive that 
we could not have repeated in concert the 
memorable words which open this chap- 
ter, but, while the letter-of the injunction 
was absent, the spirit was with us and we 
carried it out in considerable detail, the 
Indians joining with us. We shot at a 
mark, we ran horse-races with the Indians 
and also foot-races. We had no bells to 
ring, but we had plenty of noise and 
games and sports. We had no flag to un- 
furl, but its sentiment was within us; 



jSTebeaska Territory^ 1852. 81 

and when we had finished we were 
protider than ever to be Americans. 

After dinner we packed up and start- 
ed out again, our trail leading us up in 
the top of the mountains, where, after 
going into camp for the night, it began 
to snow, so I had to quit writing in my 
diary. We spent a very uncomfortable 
night, and got out of the place early, going 
down into a warmer atmosphere and to 
a level stretch of deep sand covered with 
a thick growth of sagebrush. Having 
neglected to fill our canteens while on 
the mountain, we had to travel all day 
in the sand, under a scorching sun, with- 
out a drop of water. This was our first 
severe experience in water-hunger, and 
we thought of the deserts yet to be 
crossed. 

At night we were delighted with com- 
ing to a stream, by the side of which we 
made camp, ourselves and our animals 
quite exhausted with the day's experien- 
ces. The country along here was very 
rough and mountainous, making travel- 
ling very difficult, so much so that two or 
more men dropped out to rest up. 

We were soon in the region of the 
''City -of Rocks," which was not a great 
distance south of Fort Hall, in Oregon. 



82 Along the Overland Trail^ 

This place, to all appearance, was sur- 
rounded by a range of high hills, circular 
in form and perhaps a quarter mile in di- 
ameter. A small stream of mountain 
water ran through it, near which we made 
our noon meal. 

From about the center of this circle 
arose two grand, collosal steeples of solid 
rock, rising from two hundred to three 
hundred feet high ; in outline they resem- 
bled church steeples. From the base of 
these great turrents, allowing the eyes to 
follow the circular mountains, could be 
seen a striking resemblance to a great city 
in ruins. Tall columns rose with broad 
facades and colossal archings over the 
broad entrances, w^hich seemed to lead 
into those great temples of nature. Many 
of the formations strongly resembled huge 
lions crouched and guarding the passage- 
ways. Altogether the spot was one of 
intense interest and stood as strong evi- 
dence that 

"The manuscript of God remains 
Writ large in waves and woods and rocks." 

In crossing the valley of Raft River, 
which is tributary to the Snake River, 
and finally empties into the Columbia, we 
came to a deep, ditch-like crack in the 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 83 

earth, partly filled with water and soft 
mud. It was about a rod in width, but 
so long that we cotild not see its end either 
up or down the valley as far as the eye 
could reach, so there was no possible show 
to head it or go around it. Scattered 
along its length we could see a dozen or 
more wagons standing on their heads, as 
it were, in this almost bottomless ditch of 
mud and water, each waiting for the bank 
to be dug out in front of it, when a long 
cattle- team would haul it out. After 
looking the situation over, we put our 
wits to work for some means of crossing, 
and finally hit upon what proved to be a 
feasible plan. A part of the men strip- 
ped off, plunged in and made their way 
through to the opposite bank. We then 
led the animals up, one at a time, secured 
a good strong lariat around it^ neck, and 
threw the end of it across to the men on 
the other side. Then we just pushed the 
brute into the ditch and the men ahold 
of the lariat pulled him through. We 
then did up our traps in light bundles and 
threw them across. After everything 
else was over, we took turns in being pull- 
ed through at the end of the lariat. This 
was a successful way of getting over, but, 
O my ! we were the dirtiest lot of men and 



84 Alon^g th]'] Overlaito Trail, 

animals one ever saw. We were little 
more than one-quarter mile from Raft 
River, and we lost no time in getting 
there and wading out in the clear, running 
water, about two feet deep, with rocky 
bottom, where we and the animals were 
washed sleek and clean. 

Leaving the river we entered a narrow 
defile in the mountain, where horses and 
men were crowded close together. One 
of the men having a rifle with the ham- 
mer underneath the barrel attempted to 
mount his horse without stopping and 
accidentally discharged his gun, the shot 
shot taking effect in the horse's side. As 
I happened to be walking on the other 
side of the wounded horse I was fortunate 
in not getting some part of the discharge. 
We pulled the pack off the horse and led 
him a few steps off the road, where he 
soon fell dead. 

We camped for the night farther up 
this ravine. It was the same place where, 
a few years afterward, some immigrants 
were massacred, when a part of the 
Wright family was killed and others badly 
wounded. Years afterward I became 
well acquainted with the survivors. Their 
description of the place and its surround- 
ings left no doubt in my mind that our 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 85 

ravine camping-spot was identical with 
that of their massacre. 

Our passage up Goose Creek Valley 
was extremely slow and difficult, the val- 
ley in places being no wider than the road, 
while in other places rocks and streams 
were so thick and close together that the 
way was almost impassible. We camped 
in this valley at nightfall, and, as there 
was no feed in sight for the animals, 
several of us took them up on the moun- 
tain side and gave them a feed of bunch 
grass, one man and myself remaining to 
guard them. 

Very soon a storm came up, dark 
clouds, deep thunder, sharp Hghtning, 
and a perfect deluge of rain were sweeping 
through the mountains. We brought the 
animals as close together as we could, tied 
them to the sagebrush, and kept going 
among them, talking to them and quiet- 
ing them as best we could, for they were 
whinnying and trembling with fear. It 
was an a\vful night. Over and above the 
roaring storm could be heard the howling 
of wolves, which added much terror to the 
situation. On being relieved at daylight 
and going down to camp, the men were 
trying to find themselves and a lot of 
traps that were missing. It seemed that 
the men had lain down in a bunch on a 



86 Aloxg the Overland Trail^ 

narrow bit of ground close to the creek, 
and when the rain began to fall they drew 
a canvas wagon cover over them for pro- 
tection, when, without any sound or 
warning that could be heard above the 
storm, a tide of water came down upon 
them which fairly washed them off the 
earth. They got tangled up in the wagon 
cover and were being washed down the 
creek, not knowing in the darkness when 
or where they were going to land. They 
kept together by all keeping hold of the 
wagon cover, but for which some or all of 
them might have lost their lives. They 
were finally washed up against a rocky 
projection and pulled themselves ashore. 
We were a sorry-looking lot — wet, cold, 
delapidated, and suffering from the terror 
and fright of the night. 

After breakfast we went out to hunt 
for our missing goods, some of which we 
found caught in the brush; some was 
washed beyond finding. 

This was Sunday morning and the 
weather had cleared up bright. All Nature 
seemed anxious to make amends for her 
outrageous conduct of the night before. 
We concluded to stop here until Monday 
morning, and spread our traps out to dry, 
and cook some rice, and rest and replenish 
in a general sense. 



CHAPTER IX. 

We Listened to Each Other's Rehear- 
sals AND Became Mutual Sympa- 
thizers AND EnCOURAGERS. 

We travelled up Goose Creek for sev- 
eral days till we got to its head, on the 
great divide that separates the Snake 
River from the Humboldt. The second 
or third day up the creek" we had a genu- 
ine surprise that put us all in the best of 
humor again. It was no less than the 
overtaking of the three wagons that left us 
in the South Pass, where we commenced 
packing. Captain Wadsworth's wagon 
was mired down and part of the team. 
We all turned in and soon had him out. 
We were all glad to meet again, and all 
our men were delighted to meet and shake 
hands with Mrs. Wadsworth, who was 
equally as joyful as ourselves. We camp- 
ed together that night and had a good 
visit. It was a genuine family reunion. 
How thoroughly we listened to each 
other's rehearsals and became mutual 
sympathizers and encouragers ! This was 

?7 



88 Along the Overland Trail^ 

the last time the original company ever 
met together. 

Some of our boys, whose stock was 
nearly worn out, concluded that they 
would join the three wagons and take 
more time to get through. This move 
reduced our little company of packers to 
six men and ten animals. In the morn- 
ing we bade them all goodby (some of 
them for the last time), swung into our 
saddles, and moved on. 

After crossing the divide we entered 
Pleasant Valley, which, with its level 
floor, abundant grass, and willow-fringed 
stream of cool water, was very appropri- 
ately named. As our provisions were now 
getting short, I was on the lookout for 
game of an}^ sort that would furnish food. 
After dinner, taking my rifle, I went along 
down the stream as it led off the road, 
when a pair of ducks flew up and alighted 
a short distance below. These were the 
first ducks I had seen since leaving the 
Platte, and, being out for something to 
eat, I was particularly glad to see them. 
I watched them settle, and then creeping 
up through tall wild rice I got a shot and 
killed one of them. I quickly reloaded. 
As I was out there alone I was neces- 
sarily on my guard. The duck was about 



ISTebraska Territory, 1852. 89 

twenty-five feet from the bank, and as the 
water was deep and cold and no one with 
me I concluded not to go in after it. So 
I took out the ramrod, screwed the worm- 
er to it, lengthened it out with willow cut- 
tings fastened one to another, and then 
shoved it out on the water until the worm- 
er touched the duck, which I managed to 
twist into the game and draw it ashore. 
We had an elegant supper that night. 

The next day or two I came to a pond 
where were sitting five snipe. I killed 
the whole bunch, and they helped to 
make another square meal. We were 
now near the border of the Great Desert 
proper, where, out of the midst of a level 
plain, stood a lone mountain known as 
the "Old Crater," which, together with 
its surroundings, had all the appearance 
of an extinct volcano. The plain round 
about this mountain had been rent in nar- 
row cracks or crevices leading in various 
directions from the mountain off on to the 
plain, some of them crossing the trail, 
where we had to push and jump the stock 
across them. In dropping a rock into 
them there seemed to be no bottom. All 
about them the ground was covered with 
pieces of broken lava, largely composed 
of gravel stones that had been welded 



90 x4llong the Overlaot) Trail^ 

together by intense heat. A half mile or 
so from the mountain stood a block of the 
same material, which was nearly square 
in shape and larger than a thirty-by -forty- 
foot barn. 

We made good time here after coming 
off the mountain, although we suffered 
intensely for want of water, the sun being 
very hot. However, we soon found our- 
selves in the 'Thousand Spring Valley," 
and, being influenced by its name, ex- 
pected to have, for that day at least, all 
the water we could drink. But, as it 
sometimes the case, there was 

''Water, water everywhere, 
But not a drop to drink." 

Near the entrance of the valley, which 
is about thirty miles long, is the Great 
Rock Spring, deriving its name, I pre- 
sume, from its flowing out from under an 
immense rock, forming a pool or basin of 
the brightest and clearest of water, but 
so warm that neither man nor beast could 
drink it. We all waded around through 
the basin, the water being about two feet 
deep. After a few more miles, we could 
see ahead of us clouds of steam vapor ris- 
ing from the earth in various places. We 
came to the first group of boiling springs 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 91 

at noon, nearly famished for water that 
one could drink. We turned out for a 
resting- while. Some went to look for 
cool water, and found none, while others 
made some coffee with boiling water from 
a spring, of which there were hundreds 
on a very few acres of ground. Some of 
the springs were six to ten feet across and 
three or four inches deep. We set our 
coffee-pots right in a spring and made 
coffee in a very short time. The hot sun 
pouring down on us, and boiling springs 
all about us, and no cold water to drink, 
made the place desirable for only one 
thing — to get away from. 

Toward night we turned off into the 
hills and looked for water, where, tramp- 
ing over the rocks and brush, supperless, 
until nearly midnight, we found 'a most 
delicious spring. We all drank together, 
men and animals, and together laid down 
and slept. 

A little farther along, one day at noon, 
while we were drinking our coffee, two 
wild geese flew over and down the river. 
Watching them sail along as if to light at 
a certain point, I took my rifle and fol- 
lowed.- The trail led to the right and over 
a range of hills, coming into the valley 
again several miles ahead, and the direc- 



9^ Along the Overlam) I^rail, 

tion in which I was pursuing the geese 
being a tangent, I soon lost sight of the 
company. I went hurriedly on down the 
river bottom, much of which was covered 
with wild rice, very thick and almost as 
high as my head. The course and wind- 
ings of the river here were, as elsewhere, 
marked by the willows along the banks. 
I was now a mile or so from the trail, and 
coming quite near where I expected to 
find the game. Passing cautiously by a 
clump of willows I noticed something 
white on the dead grass, which, upon 
investigation, proved to be a human 
skeleton in a perfect state of preservation. 
I picked up the skull, looked it over, and 
picked off the under jaw which was filled 
with beautiftil teeth. Putting these in 
my pocket and replacing the skull, I 
moved carefully forward, expecting ' to 
soon see the geese. Picking my way 
through the stiff mud, I saw several moc- 
casin tracks. I was just on the point of 
turning back when I saw the head af an 
Indian to my left, within easy range of 
my rifie. Looking hurriedly about me, 
I saw another at my right and quite a dis- 
tance to the rear. In a moment they 
drew their heads down into the grass. I 
immediately realized the danger of re- 



Kebkaska Territory^ 1852. 93 

treating back into open ground, so I plung- 
ed forward into the wild rice, gripping my 
rifle with one hand and making a path 
through the rice with the other. I ran 
along in this way until my strength was 
nearly gone and the hand I worked the 
rice with was lacerated and bleeding. I 
faced about, dropped to my knees, and, 
with rifle cocked, awaited developments. 
After resting a few minutes and getting 
over my scare I started in the direction 
of the trail, hoping to get out of the rice 
and the willows into the open. Again I 
had to rest. My hands and arms were 
now both so lame and sore I could scarce- 
ly use them. When I finally got out of 
the rice, I straightened up and ran like a 
deer, expecting at every jump I made to 
be pursued and shot. I made straight 
for a bend in the slough which was partly 
filled with water. The opposite bank 
being lined with willows, some of them 
began to move a little and I concluded 
some one was coming through them. 
Levelling my rifle and with finger on the 
trigger, I heard some one shout to me not 
to shoot. It was a white man, who wanted 
to cross the slough. He ran into the water 
and mud far enough so that I could reach 
him and pull him on to the bank. He, 



94 Along the Overland Trail^ 

too, had encountered the Indians in the 
rice and willows, and for a time was un- 
able to stand, being completely exhausted 
with fear and his efforts to escape. As 
soon as he could walk, we started away 
from that locality with what strength and 
energy we had left. He was there alone 
and unarmed, looking for strayed cattle, 
and had been skulking and hiding from 
Indians for more than an hour before I 
came along. I, being well armed, might 
have discouraged them in their hunt for 
either one of us. At least they never got 
in my way after our first sight of each 
other. 

My hands were now swollen and very 
painful. The stranger carried my gun, 
and in a couple of hours we overtook my 
comrades. As I got on to my mule I 
thought what a fool I had been to go 
alone so far on a wild-goose chase. That 
day s experience ended' my hunting at 
any considerable distance from camp. 

While we were still trailing close be- 
side the Humboldt River a most remark- 
able and pathetic incident occurred, the 
vicinity being that now known as Elko, 
in Elko County, Nevada. 

We had been ca-mping over night in 
the Humboldt Mountains, and on our way 



Nebraska TERinTORY, 1852. 95 

out in the morning I chanced to be some 
distance ahead. Riding down a steep, 
narrow place, walled in on either side, I 
could catch only a glimpse of the Hum- 
boldt River as it spun along just ahead 
of me. Just before emerging from this 
narrow place I heard loud screaming for 
help, althoug:h as yet I could see no one. 
Coming out into the open, I saw a man 
in the river strugghng with a span of 
horses to which was still attached the run- 
ning gear of a wagon. A few rods below 
him were his wife and two children about 
five and three years old, floating down 
the strong current in the wagon bed. 

I swam my mule across, and the 
minute I reached the land, I jumped off, 
and, leaving my rifle on the ground, ran 
over the rocks down stream after the 
woman and children, who were screaming 
at the top of their voices. The river 
made a short bend around some rocks on 
which I ran out, and, wading a short dis- 
tance, I was able to grasp the corner of the 
the wagon bed as it came along, which 
was already well filled with water. Hold- 
ing to it, the current swept it against the 
shore, where the woman handed her child- 
ren out to me and then cHmbed ashore 
herself. As soon as all were on land, the 



96 Along the Overland Trail^ 

woman, hugging her children with one 
arm, knelt at my feet and clasping me 
about the knees sobbed as though her 
heart would break, as she kept repeating 
that I had saved their lives, and express- 
ing her thanks for the rescue. 

As soon as I could collect my wits I 
began to tug at the wagon-bed, and then 
the woman helped, and together we got 
it where it was safe. Then we led the 
children up to where the man had got 
ashore with his team. 

By this time the rest of our train had 
crossed the river and were with the man 
and his horses. When they learned just 
what had happened, they became very 
indignant because the man had apparent- 
ly abandoned his wife and children to the 
mercies of the river, while he exerted him- 
self to save his team. Quicker than I can 
tell it, the tongue of the man's wagon was 
set up on end, and hasty preparations 
being made to hang the man from the end 
of it. Almost frantic with what she saw, 
the wife again threw herself at my feet 
and begged me to save her husband. Her 
tears and entreaties, probably more than 
all I said, finally quieted the men, al- 
though some of them were still in favor 
of throwing him in the river. We event- 



Nebraska Tereitokt, 1852. 97 

ually helped them get their wagon to- 
gether, when we moved on and left them. 
At this place the river runs down into 
a canon, where we had to ford it four 
times in ten miles, the stream changmg 
that many times from one side of the 
rocky walls to the other. We made the 
last ford about middle afternoon, and as 
it was Sunday, we put out for the day and 
night. 

"Up with my tent, here will I lie to-night. 
But where to-morrow? Well, all's well 
for that." 



CHAPTER X. 

Boots and Saddles Call, 



^^^^^m^ 



^^"tft 



In nearly all lifetimes and in nearly 
all undertakings, there will occur seasons 
which severally try not merely one's faith 
and courage, but one's power of physical 
endurance as well; seasons when one's 
spirits are fagged and stand in need of a 
reveille, or "Boots and Saddles" call. 

The march of our little company dur- 
ing these mid- July days, with their priva- 
tions and sufferings, could scarcely have 
been maintained, but for the notes of 
cheer which, b}^ memory's route, came 
to us from out the silent places of the 
past, or, on the wings of hope, alighted 
among us from off the heights of the 
future. 



Nebi^aska Territory. 1852. 99 

The Humboldt River, which by this 
time had become to us quite a memorable 
stream, was winding and crooked after 
coming out of the caiion, and could be 
traced through the desert only by the wil- 
lows that grew along its banks and around 
its shallow pools. Our route lay on the 
left bank all the way down to the ''sink." 

It was the middle of July, with never 
a cloud in the sky, not a tree or shade of 
any kind. The ground was heated like 
an oven and covered more or less by an 
alkali sand, which parched our lips while 
the sun was blistering our noses. 

The river from here down to its sink 
is like all desert streams in the dry season. 
It does not have a continuous current, but 
the water lies in pools, alternating with 
places where the bed is dry and bare. In 
its windings it averaged about twenty- 
five miles from one bend to another, the 
trail leading a straight Hne Hke a railroad 
from one point to another. These points 
were our camping-places. As it was 
useless to stop between them we had to 
make the river or perish. 

The willows were already browsed 
down to mere stubs, consequently there 
was little or no feed for the stock. Wher- 
ever, we could find any grass, there we 



100 Along the Overland Trail^ 

took the animals and tended them until 
they got their fill. There was no game to 
be seen nor anything that had life, except 
horned toads and lizards. The former 
could be seen in the sand all day. They 
were of all sizes, ranging from a kernel of 
com to a common toad, each ornamented 
with the same covering of horns, begin- 
ning with a Turk's crescent on the tip of 
the nose. As to the lizards, none could 
be seen during the day, but at night there 
would be a whole family of them lying 
right against one, having crept under the 
blankets to keep warm, I suppose, as the 
nights were quite cool. Upon getting up 
in the morning we would take our blan- 
kets by one end and give a jerk, and the 
lizards would roll out like so many links 
of weinerwurst. 

About midway to the river we began 
to get uncomfortably short of provisions, 
having only some parched coffee, a little 
sugar, and a few quarts of broken hard- 
tack. We had neither flour nor meat for 
more than two weeks. But of all our 
sufferings the greatest was that of thirst. 
It was so intense that we forgot our hun- 
ger and our wearied and womout condi- 
tion. Our sole thought was of water, and 
when we talked about what amount we 



Nebraska Territory^ 1852. 101 

would drink when we came to a good 
spring no one ever estimated less than a 
barrel full, and we honestly believed we 
could drink that much at a single draught. 
We had, in a degree, become 'loony" on 
the subject, particularly in the middle of 
the day, when one could not raise moist- 
ure in his mouth to even spit. For about 
ten days the only water we had was ob- 
tained from the pools by which we would 
camp. These pools were stagnant and 
their edges invariably lined with dead cat- 
tle that had died while trying to get a 
drink. Selecting a carcass that was solid 
enough to hold us up, we would walk out 
into the pool on it, taking a blanket with 
us, which we would swash around and get 
as full of water as it would hold, then car- 
rying it ashore, two men, one holding each 
end, would twist the filthy water out into 
a pan, which in turn would be emptied 
into our canteens, to last until the next 
camping-place. As the stomach would 
not retain this water for even a moment, 
it was only used to moisten the tongue 
and throat. 

One afternoon we noticed on the side 
of a mountain spur off to our left a green 
spot part way up its side. We looked at 
the spot and then at the bend to which 



102 Aloxg the Overland Trail, 

we were going, and as each seemed to be 
about equi-distant we concluded to go to 
the mountains, beheving we would find 
water. 

Well, if any of you have had any ex- 
perience in travelling toward a mountain 
you, as did we, probably under-estimated 
the distance. We left the trail at 3 o'clock 
and tramped until nearly sundown before 
we began to make the ascent, always 
keeping our eyes on that green spot. 
About an hour after dark we came into 
the bed of a dry creek, and believing that 
it would eventually lead us to water, we 
followed it up until about midnight, when 
we came to water in a ditch about two 
feet wide and a few inches deep. 

Ourselves and animals being nearly 
exhausted, we just laid down in that 
stream, and I guess each one came pretty 
near drinking his barrel of water. We 
pulled off the packs and let the animals 
go loose in the feed, which was very good, 
while we were soon stretched out and 
sound asleep. When we woke in the 
morning the sun was well up and sending 
down its scorching rays into our faces. 
We made some coffee, drank it and felt 
better. We stayed there until noon, as 
the animals were still getting good feed, 



Nebraska Territory., 1852. 103 

and we — well, we were getting all the 
water we wanted. We filled our canteens 
with it, and after making necessary prep- 
arations started to strike the river again, 
which we could plainl}^ see from our moun- 
tain perch, also slow moving trains, as 
they plod their weary way over the plain. 

We reached the river about sundown 
and as we looked against the western hor- 
izon, began to see quite distinctly the 
snow-capped range of the Sierra Nevada 
Mountains. They looked grand and for- 
midable to us, knowing that we must 
climb up and over them before we could 
reach our journey's end. They held no 
terror for us, however, for we knew that 
we should suffer neither from heat nor 
thirst during our trail over their broad, 
friendly sides. 

For a couple of days we had been try- 
ing the experiment of camping during the 
day and travelling at night, but we soon 
got enough of that way of getting along. 
The traveling at night was all right, but 
to camp all day with a scorching sun over- 
head and a burning sand under our feet 
was more than we could endure, so we 
again worked by day and slept at night. 

There was no fuel along here except 
willows, and they were so green it was 



104 AlOXG the OVERLAISTD TrAIL, 

impossible to coax them into a blaze. We 
finally resorted to a willow crane, which 
we made by sticking a couple of willows 
into the sand, arching them over toward 
each other and tying them together, hang- 
ing our coffee-pot between them, under- 
neath which we made a fire of dead grass 
tied in knots. For a long time we laid on 
the sand and fed that fire with knotted 
grass, but boil the coffee would not. 

We had now reached the sink of the 
Humboldt, which was a small lake, per- 
haps ten or twelve miles long and two or 
three miles wide. The upper half was 
quite shallow, with soft, miry bottom cov- 
ered with flags and rushes. The lower 
half was clear, open water, rounding off 
at its lower end with a smooth, sandy 
beach, making it a very pretty thing to 
look at, but its water was so brackish as 
to be unpalatable for drinking purposes. 

We camped for the night near its flags 
and rushes, a large quantity of which we 
cut and brought in for the animals, which 
seemed to give them new life and ambi- 
tion. We also cut as many bundles as we 
could carry away bound to the backs of our 
loose stock, for we still had forty-two 
miles more of desert, without wood, water 
or grass, before reaching the Carson 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 105 

River. While camping in this vicinity 
two pehcans sailed around and lighted in 
the clear lake, beyond reach of rifle-shot. 
These were the first birds of the kind I 
had ever seen outside of a showman's 
cage, and I was determined to have one 
of them if possible ; so, with rifle in hand, 
I waded out till the water came up under 
my arms, and, not being able to go any 
farther, I fired, but without avail. 

In looking about me as I waded back, 
I saw a little white tent a short way off, 
just on the edge of the lake. Going to it, 
I found a lone man about half drunk. I 
asked him what he was doing there, and 
he said he had some alcohol to sell at five 
dollars a quart. I bought a quart, my 
canteen full, and went back to camp. We 
succeeded in making coffee of the strong- 
est kind and enough of it to fill our six 
canteens. We divided the alcohol equal- 
ly among us and mixed it with the coffee. 
This arrangement was an experiment, 
but we found upon trial that one swallow 
of this mixture would make a person bat 
his eyes and step about quite lively, while 
two of them wotdd make a man forget 
most of his troubles. 

I remember that it was about mid- 
afternoon when we finally packed and 



106 Along the Overlan-d Tr.ul^ 

left the Humboldt River for the last time, 
which we did with but few regrets. It 
was our intention to m^ake as much as 
possible of the Humboldt desert during 
the night. 

A few miles out the trail forked, the 
one to the right being "Trucke Route" 
and the other ''Carson Route"; we decid- 
ed tipon the latter. Near the forks were 
some campers, two sets of them, who were 
quarreling as to which route was the bet- 
ter. They finally began to shoot at each 
other and were still at it when we passed 
out of hearing, not knowing or caring how 
the duel might end. Toward sundown 
we came to the salt wells, twelve miles 
from the sink, the water in them being 
as salt as the strongest brine. This was 
the last salt water we saw on our journey. 
About midnight we came to some tents, 
wagons, and a corral of stock; we were 
then nearly half the distance across the 
desert. 

At the tent water was sold at the very 
low price of ''six bits" a gallon. We 
bought one gallon apiece for each of the 
animals and as much as we needed to 
drink at the time for ourselves. We did 
not care to dilute the contents of our can- 
teens. We gave the stock a feed and 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 107 

moved on. The night was moonhghted, 
very bright and pleasant, but awfully 
still, rendered so seemingly by the sur- 
roundings, or perhaps by the lack of sur- 
roundings, for there could be heard no 
rushing of waters, no murmuring of forests 
no rustUng of grasses. All of Nature's 
music-pieces had been left far behind. 
There was nothing but sand, and it was 
at rest except as our footfalls caused it to 
vibrate. The broad and barren expanse, 
the white hght of the full moon full upon 
it, the curvings afid windings of the trail 
upon the sand, the steady onward march 
of our caravan, all combined to make a 
subject worthy the brush of a Millet. 

We travelled in silence mostly. There 
was reverence in the atmosphere and we 
could not evade it. We did not even try. 

Akin to this scene must have been the 
one which inspired Longfellow to write: 

"Art is the child of Nature; yes. 
Her darling child, in whom we trace 
The features of the mother's face, 
Her aspect and her mien." 



CHAPTER XI. 

''But All Comes Right in the End." 

From this point on to Carson River 
the route was continuously strewn with 
the carcasses of stock that had perished 
there, some of them years before. Owing 
probably to the dry climate and the fact 
that the greater part of the desert was 
covered with alkali and crystalized soda, 
the bodies of these animals remained per- 
fect, as they had fallen. The sand glist- 
ening in their eyes gave them a very life- 
like appearance. At intervals could be 
seen wagons, all complete except the 
cover, with two to four yoke of cattle 
lying dead, with the yokes on their necks, 
the chains still in the rings, just as they 
fell and died, most of them with their 
tongues hanging from their mouths. 

Daylight came just as we got to the 
loose sand. The moment the sun rose 
above the horizon its influence could be 
seen and felt, and in an hour or two sev- 
eral cattle-teams had perished near us. 
First one ox would drop as though he 
were shot, and in a few minutes others 

io8 



TsTebraska Terkitory, 1852. 109 

would sink down, and almost before the 
owner could realize the condition of 
things, a part or the whole of his team 
would lie dead. 

For the want of vegetables or acid of 
some kind, I had been troubled for a week 
or so with an attack of scurvy in my 
mouth, the gums being swollen because 
of the alkali dust. This not only caused 
me pain and misery, but created a strong 
and constant desire for something sour. 
While riding past an ox team I noticed 
a jug in the front end of the wagon. Upon 
inquiry of the driver, I found that the jug 
contained vinegar. I offered him a silver 
dollar for a cupful, but he refused to part 
with any of it, saying that he might need 
it himself before he got through. He was 
afoot on the off side of the wagon, where 
the jug was setting. I was sort of crazy 
mad and drawing my revolver, I rode 
around the rear of the wagon, thinking 
I would kill the fellow and take his jug of 
vinegar. But when he began to run for 
his life around the front yoke of cattle I 
came to my senses and hastened away 
from his outfit. 

We could now see a few scattering, 
tall trees outlining the Carson River, also 
long mountain spurs reaching almost out 



110 Along the Overland Trail, 

into the sand, covered with a short 
growth of pine timber. In leaving the 
sand about 11 o'clock a.m. I noticed a 
large open tent near by. I rode up and 
into the tent, and, looking about, saw 
among other things one bottle of gherkin 
pickles about one quart of them. I 
asked the price. It was five dollars, and 
I paid it gladly as the owner passed the 
bottle over to me. I saw in that bottle 
of pickles my day of deliverance and sal- 
vation, and drawing my long knife from 
my bootleg soon drew the cork and filled 
my fevered mouth with pickles. I assure 
my readers that I can taste those gherkins 
to this day. The proprietor, who evi- 
dently thought that I was a "little off," 
brought me to a sense of realization by 
telling me that his tent was not a mule 
stable and that I had better get out. His 
voice and expression made me feel that I 
might be in danger of losing my pickles, 
so I waited not on ceremiony, but beat a 
hasty and complete retreat. 

We had now finished the desert which, 
with all its events and experiences, was 
already behind us. We had travelled 
more than one thousand miles with no 
tree in sight, and our feelings can easily 
be imagined when, in looking a short dis- 



Nebraska Territory^ 1852. Ill 

tance ahead, we saw a clump of trees — 
real trees, green trees, shade-giving trees. 
We instantly became, as it were, initiated 
into the tree- worshipping sect. We were 
soon, men and beasts, within the cooling 
shade, and the packs stripped fom the 
poor, -tired animals, when they were led 
into the shallow water of the Carson, 
where they drank and bathed to their 
heart's content, and were then turned 
loose into a stretch of good grass. 

We couldn't treat ourselves as well as 
we had treated our animals, for we had 
only a bite of hardtack crumbs, which we 
washed down with some of the ''elixir of 
life" from our canteens. But we stretch- 
ed ourselves underneath the friendly trees 
and, just letting loose of everything, slept 
until nearly noon the next day. 

The vicinity in which we camped 
seemed to have been pre-empted by a 
number of parties, who lived in tents and 
sold provisions to the immigrants. The 
settlement was called "Ragtown." 

After coming out of our long sleep and 
taking in the situation of our whereabouts 
we were soon ready to take up our west- 
ward march, which, in two days, brought 
us to the first real house we had seen since 
leaving the Missouri. This house was 



112 Along the Overland Trail^ 

known as ''Mormon Station." It was a 
good-sized story and half building, with a 
lean-to on one side and a broad porch on 
the other, along which was a beautiful 
little stream of cold, clear water. Cups 
were hanging on the porch columns for 
the use of immigrants. There were also 
long benches for them to sit and rest on. 
Connected with this" house was a stock 
ranch and a cultivated farm of sixty acres, 
mostly all in vegetables. Within was a 
large store of supplies. Well, we didn't 
stop long for compliments, for our mouths 
were watering for some of those onions, 
lettuce, cabbage, new potatoes, pickles, 
steak and bacon, etc. We laid in a gener- 
ous supply of the whole thing, including 
soft and hard bread and a bucket of milk. 
We also got a new coffeepot, as our old 
one had neither spout nor handle. 

After making our purchases we select- 
ed our camping-site andproceeded to make 
ourselves comfortable, after disposing of 
the stock in grass up to its eyes. We were 
going to have a supper fit for the gods, 
and ever^^body became busy. The boss 
coffee-maker attended strictly to his busi- 
ness, and some others cut and sliced an 
onion that was as large as a plate, cover- 
ing it with salt and pepper and vinegar, 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 113 

which we ate as a ''starter." We had an 
elegant sujjper and appetites to match. 
After supper some of the men went 
back to the store and laid in a supply of 
fresh bread and steak for breakfast. They 
brought back some pipes and tobacco, 
and for a long time we sat around our 
campfire smoking and reciting many ex- 
periences incident to our journey across 
the continent. With pangs of hunger 
and thirst appeased, our pipes filled to the 
brim and the smoke therefrom curling 
and twisting itself into cloud-banks, we 
were a supremely happy lot, and with the 
poet was ready to sing: 

"The road is rough and the day is cold, 

And the landscape's sour and bare, 
And the milestones, once such charming friends, 

Half-hearted welcomes wear. 
There's trouble before and trouble behind, 

And a troublesome present to mend, 
And the road goes up and the road goes down, 

But it all comes right in the end." 

We decided to remain in this place 
another day, thereby giving ourselves and 
the stock time to secure the rest which we 
so greatly needed. It was during our 
stay here that in loading my rifle for a 
duck the stock broke in two. In making 
this little book, I cannot pass the incident 



114 Along the Overland Trail^ 

by without a few parting words in mem- 
ory of my faithful old friend and protector. 

In make and style the gun was known 
as a Kentucky rifle, with curled maple 
stock the entire length of the barrel, 
underneath which was a ''patch box," 
set lock, and a brass plate. Since we 
began to pack I had carried it continually 
on my shoulders, exposed to weather and 
elements, hot air and desert heat, until 
the varied exposures had so weakened it 
that it broke while being loaded. I had 
carried it on my shoulders for such a long 
time that my shirt and vest became worn 
through, and the brass plate, heated by 
the scorching sun, did a remarkable piece 
of pyro-sculpture by burning into my 
bare shoulders a pair of shoulder straps 
that continued with me more than a year. 

Carson valley, through which our 
route lay, seemed to be twenty or more 
miles wide when we first entered it, but 
it narrowed as it continued toward the 
Sierras until it became not more than a 
mile in width at the point where it pushed 
itself far into the mountain range. Upon 
the morning of our departure, we were 
early astir, and, turning to the right, left 
the valley that had been to us a Mecca of 
rest and replenishment, and entered the 



Nebraska Territory, 1852. 115 

Dark Canon, which is but a few rods wide, 
with perpendicular sides of rock so high 
that daylight seemed to be dropped down 
from overhead. Through this canon flow- 
ed a rushing, roaring torrent of water, and 
as the bed of the canon is very steep and 
made up mostly of round stones and boul- 
ders ranging in size from a marble to a 
load of hay, one can imagine something 
of the difficulties we had to encounter dur- 
ing the first four miles of our ascent. 

In addition to the well-nigh impas- 
sable track, was the most deafening and 
distracting accumulation of noises ever 
heard since the time of Babel. The water 
as it roared and rushed and dropped itself 
from boulder to boulder, the rattling and 
banging of empty wagons, the cracking 
of the drivers' whips, the shouting of the 
men, and the repetitions and reverbera- 
tions of it all as the high walls caught 
them up and tossed them back and forth 
on their way to the exit, gave an impres- 
sion that the cafion was engaged in grand 
opera with all stops open. 

After spending one entire day here we 
emerged into what is known as Hope 
Valley, and its name in no wise belied its 
nature. In its quietude we took a new 
hold of ourselves, remaining in camp 



116 Along the Overland Trail^ 

within its enclosure during the night. The 
valley is a large estuary or basin upon the 
first great bench of the range. Its center 
seemed to consist of a quagmire, as one 
could not walk far out on it and stock 
could not go at all. 

Some of us took our knives and 'twixt 
rolling and crawling on our stomachs, got 
to where the grass was and cut and 
brought in enough to bait our horses and 
mules. 

We started again at daylight next 
morning, and as the roads were fairly 
good we made twelve miles, which 
brought us to the shore of Mountain Lake. 
The weather here was cold during the 
night, the water near the edge of the lake 
freezing to the thickness of window glass. 
We were among quite heavy timber of 
pine and fir. This place might be called 
the second point in line of ascent. About 
one-half mile distant was the region of 
perpetual snow, in full sight, toward 
which we climbed and worked most 
assiduously, the line being very steep and 
the trail exceedingly zigzagged. Resting- 
places were only to be had on the upper 
side of the great trees. It was here that 
a four mule team, hitched to a splendid 
carry-all, got started backward down the 



Nebraska Territory^ 1852. 117 

mountain, the driver jumping from his 
seat. The whole outfit going down the 
mountain end over end and brought up 
against a large tree, the vehicle completely 
wrecked. The mules landed farther down. 

Arriving at the snow line, we found 
grass and even flowers growing and 
blooming in soil moistened by the melt- 
ing snow. The notch in the summit of 
the mountains through which we had to 
pass was four miles distant from this 
point. The trail leading up was of a cir- 
cular form, like a winding stair, turning 
to the left, and the entire distance was 
completely covered with snow, or more 
properly ice crystals as coarse as shelled 
corn, which made the road-bed so hard 
that a wheel or an animal's foot scarcely 
made an impression on it. 

We reached the summit about noon, 
August 7th, where we halted to rest and, 
as did Moses, "to view the landscape 
o'er. " Looking back and down upon the 
circular road we could plainly see many 
outfits of men, animals, and wagons, as 
they slowly worked their way up and 
around the great circle which we had just 
completed. 

Thinking we might see the Missouri 
River or some eastern town from our 



118 Along the Overland Trail^ 

great altitude, we looked far out to the 
east; but the fact was we could see but 
a very little way as compared with our 
view on the plains. On a point high up 
on the rocks I spied a flag, which proved 
to be a section from a red woolen shirt. 
Upon going to it I found in a small cavity 
in the highest peak a bottle having upon 
its label the inscription, "Take a drink 
and pass on." 

We went down to the edge of the tim- 
ber on the California side and spent a 
night on the hard snow. We had wood 
for fire, snow for water, and pine boughs 
for beds, but no feed for our hungry 
beasts. Having laid in a good supply of 
provisions at Mormon Station, among 
which was a big sack of hard bread, we 
gave the animals a ration apiece of the 
same, promising them something better 
as soon as it could be had. This was our 
first night in California, having heretofore 
been travelling, since leaving the Missouri 
River Valley, in the Territory of Nebraska , 
except as we passed through a little cor- 
ner of Oregon, near Ft. Hall. 

After an early breakfast, we left the 
region of snow and went down among the 
timber and into a milder atmosphere. We 
passed through a place called Tragedy 



Nebraska Teeiutory, 1852. 119 

Springs, whose history, we afterwards 
learned, was indicated by its name. Leek 
Springs was the name of our next stopping 
place, which, from its appearance, evident- 
ly a favorite resort of all who passed that 
way. It so happened, however, that 
we were the only parties camping there 
that night. Realizing that we were very 
near our journey's end, we made these 
last evenings together as pleasant and 
as restful as possible. I remember this 
evening in particular, also the following 
morning, when, upon bestirring ourselves, 
we found that our sack of hard bread had 
been eaten and the sack torn to pieces. 
The frying pan had been licked clean, and 
things generally disturbed. Upon inves- 
tigation we soon found that the camp had 
been invaded by two grizzly bears. They 
had walked all around us while we slept, 
evidently smelling of each one, as was 
indicated by the large, plain tracks which 
they had left, not only in the camp, but 
across the road also as they took their de- 
parture. 

During the day we had opportunity 
to buy some hay for our stock, and at 
night we made ourselves at home among 
the heaviest white pine timber I ever saw. 
To test the size of the trees, we selected 



120 Along the Overland Trail, 

one that was representative of more than 
half the trees in that vicinity, and four of 
us joined hands and tried to circle the 
tree, but could not. They were so large 
and so near together that it seemed as 
though more than one-half of the ground 
and air was taken up by them. They had 
only a few stub branches for a top. Their 
bodies were as straight and as smooth as 
a ship's mast, and so tall that in looking 
at them one usually had to throw one's 
head back twice before seeing their tops. 

The western slope of the Sierras was 
much more gradual in its descent than on 
the eastern side, the former reaching from 
the summit to the Valley of the Sacra- 
mento, about one hundred miles, while 
the ascent on the eastern side, from the 
leaving of Carson Valley, is about twenty- 
four miles. 

The travel along here was quiet and 
easy, and as we had reason to believe that 
we were in close proximity to the gold 
mines, we were constantly looking out 
for them. We found a sort of restaurant 
on the hillside, where we treated ourselves 
to sardines and vinegar, coffee and crack- 
ers ; and a little later we came upon some 
men actually engaged in gold-digging, the 
first we had ever seen. The place was 



Nebraska Teeritory, 1852. 121 

called Weber Creek Diggins. There were 
several Chinamen in the group, who, with 
their broad bamboo hats and their in- 
cessant chatter, were certainly a great 
curiosity to us. 

We passed on and soon came to Dia- 
mond Spring Diggings, where we spent 
the night under an immense lone tree. 
The ground was rich with gold here, and 
if we had gone to digging and washing 
the very spot on which we slept we could 
all of us have made a snug fortune; but 
it was not for us to get rich so quickly. 

This was our last night together, 
Hangtown, or Placerville, Eldorado 
County, as it is to-day, being but a few 
miles distant. We reached Hangtown m 
time for breakfast, after which we all rode 
up the dividing ridge, from the top of 
which we looked down upon the busiest 
town and richest mining district in that 
country. 

I The hill was long and steep, and there- 
by hangs a tale. The saddle had worked 
up on my mule's shoulders, which I had 
not noticed, my mind being so wholly 
given to our new surroundings. In a 
second of time, and with no admonition 
whatever, that mule kicked both hind feet 
into the air, and I was made to turn a 



122 Along the Overland Trail^ 

complete somersault over his head 
landing on the flat of my back just in 
front of him. He stopped and looked at 
me with a malicious smile in his eye, as 
much as to say : ' ' We will now quit even. ' ' 
The breath was knocked out of me. The 
boys picked me up and brushed the dirt 
off, but I never mounted the mule again. 
We closed our social relations right there. 
To think he should be so ungrateful as to 
treat me in that way after I had watched 
over him with so much care and tender- 
ness! We had swam many a stream to- 
gether; I had even divided my bread 
with him; I had reposed so much confi- 
dence in him that many a night had I 
slept with the loose end of his lariat tied 
to my wrist. When we returned to town 
I sold both my mule and pony. 

After we had treated ourselves to a 
bath, shave, haircut, and some new 
clothes we started out to prospect for 
individual interests, and became separa- 
ted. Two of the company I have never 
seen since we parted that afternoon, 
August 10, 1852. 



CHAPTER XII. 

Each Day Makes its own Paragraphs 
AND Punctuation Marks. 

"I am dreaming to-night of the days gone by, 
When I camped in the open so free and grand. 

Those days have gone; each passing year 
Has made the buoyant steps grow slow, 

But the pictures stay to comfort and cheer 
The days that come and the days tha go." 

During the preparation of the pre- 
vious chapters I have once again been 
twenty-four years old. Once again I have 
lived over those five months, so alternated 
with lights and shadows, but above which 
the star of hope never for a moment lack- 
ed luster or definiteness. The entire route 
from Monroe, Michigan, to Hangtown, 
was one great book, having new lessons 
and illustrations for each day. Some of 
them were beautiful beyond description; 
others were terrible beyond compare, and 
so hard to understand. 

Each day made its own paragraphs 
and punctuation marks, and how sur- 
prising and unexpected many of them 

1^3 



124 Along the Overland Trail^ 

were ! Commas would become semicolons 
and periods give place to exclamation 
points, in the most reckless sort of fashion. 
The event which had been planned as a 
period to a day's doings would often 
instead become a hyphen, leading into 
and connecting us with conditions wholly 
undreamed of. 

To-day as I look back upon the more 
than fifty intervening years I realize that 
the wealth that I gathered from the way- 
side of each day's doings has enriched my 
whole after-life far beyond the nuggets 
which I digged from the mines. Nature 
never does anything half-heartedly. Her 
every lesson, picture, and song is an in- 
spirer and enricher to all who would 
learn, look, and listen aright. 

All of our company, excepting the one 
who still sleeps in his prairie bed, event- 
ually reached the ''promised land." Cap- 
tain and Mrs.Wadsworth, then as before, 
were noted and esteemed for their noble 
manhood and womanhood. The Captain 
in time was made Marshal of Placerville 
and did much for the advancement of its 
interests. Both he and his wife died 
after being in California about seven 
years. Charley Stewart, the young man 
with whom I had the midnight tussle. 



Nebraska Territory^ 1852. 125 

returned to his home in a few months, 
dying shortly thereafter. He had made 
the trip hoping to benefit his impaired 
health, but was disappointed in the re- 
sult. I kept in touch with several of the 
others for some time. 

After two years I returned home by 
way of the Isthmus, when other and new 
interests claimed my time and attention, 
and I would only hear now and again 
that one and then another and yet others 
had left the trail and passed over the 
dividing ridge into the land where camps 
neither break nor move on. 

The story of our trail has of necessity 
been told in monologue, as only I of all 
the number am here to tell it. 

The pictures upon memory's walls, 
a few relics, and a golden band upon my 
wife's finger, made into a wedding-ring 
from gold that I myself had dug, are the 
links which unite these days to those days. 



